You Wanna Be Rough?
by Gadien Elf
Summary: A series of mature S/V vignettes. The rating is there for a reason!
1. Chapter 1: All About the Makeup

You Wanna Be Rough?

Timescale: 2x17

Spoilers: Really none, just the line "You wanna be rough or do you want me to be rough" from the 5/18 Double Episode totally inspired me. This has become a bit of a beast – grown into something from a one-parter. The chapters are more like vignettes really, and only kind of connected to one another.

Originally posted over at SD-1, I felt that it needed a home here as well.

Disclaimer: I definitely don't own Alias. If I did…well…my ideas would have been in the show. Ppft.

Rating: M all the way.

Chapter 1: All About the Make-Up

Sydney watched Vaughn from the couch as he sat at the kitchen table pouring over the information he'd received from his contact at the bar, as well as the knowledge that Syd had provided him with. He was being investigated, that much he knew, but investigated for checking up on Irina Derevko? Hardly something to punish an agent for, he thought. Especially when he was striving to protect one of their most valuable assets: Sydney Bristow.

He was still fuming and she knew it, so she kept her distance and made sure he had enough privacy to deal with the rampant thoughts in his head. She wanted to walk up to him and pull him into her arms for comfort as much as he had done for her in the past, but she knew it wouldn't necessarily be a good idea.

When most couples had make-up sex, it was after apologizing for their transgressions against their loved one. When Sydney and Vaughn have make up sex, it commonly occurred during the fight - their anger and hurt being taken out on one another in the throes of passion. Tender moments almost always transpired after the rough love making, and then all feelings of resentment were laid to rest.

She knew that he was still angry about her keeping Yager's investigation secret, and in truth she didn't blame him. She'd been angry about secrets before, and now she had been the one to withhold information from the one person she had swore never to betray. The contradicting emotions flitting through her mind moved from hot to cold. One moment she'd move to get up and walk over but then settle back down and flip through the book on her lap.

She finally just let out a huff of air and stood, making her way into the kitchen to see him standing against the fridge, eyeing her with fiery emerald orbs, his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms folded over his chest. If she didn't know him any better, she'd think that she was an immediate danger.

But she did know him, and the sight of him holding back so much hurt and anger made her heart beat faster as the blood began pulsing through her veins.

"You sill mad?' She asked lightly, and his sudden movement made her jump.

His hands gripped her forearms like a vice, his fingers digging brutally into her skin as his mouth, complete with unshaven cheeks and chin, attacked her ferociously. His rough stubble left red abrasions on her face as his tongue forced its way into her moist depths to duel with her own.

His hands abandoned her arms to reach down and haul her entire body against his, her legs instinctively wrapping securely around his waist to keep from falling back onto the hardwood floor of the apartment. She was insanely happy that Will and Francie were gone for the weekend, leaving the home empty for the new couple. She dimly heard a crash and a scattered fluff of papers cascading to the ground as his one free arm roughly shoved the folder and its contents off the table.

Her mouth was still vacuumed to his, feeling the breath leave her lungs in a rush as her back slammed into the wooden surface of the table, his body still hard against hers. The evidence of his desire was, at the moment, pressed firmly against her taut stomach, spots dancing before her as she struggled to get an ounce of air into her lungs.

With a smack he released her swollen lips to look down at the disheveled woman lying prone beneath him.

"Too rough?" his raspy voice broke through the foggy barrier of her thoughts as she shook her head, reaching up and yanking him back down to her warm body. His hands instantly went for her shirt, and gripping each side of the buttoned-up seams, he ripped them apart, sending the plastic pieces all over the dining area.

Her taut stomach and lacy black bra were exposed to his hungry gaze, and the first thing his eyes noticed was that the hooks were in the front. He didn't remember her putting that on this morning, he thought, but his mind was soon set on a different track as Sydney's fingers danced languidly up her stomach; with a flick of the wrist her breasts were bare.

He left her shirt and bra pinned beneath them as his mouth attacked the right peak, his hand working on the left and his teeth biting into the nipple making her cry out. His tongue salved the sore spot as he pulled back long enough to notice the slight marks marring her creamy breast.

"Too rough?"

Another shake of the head confirmed that she was indeed enjoying herself, her hands moving lower to unsnap the casual yet classy slacks she was wearing. The zipper was easy, it was the snap that was proving to be difficult as she twisted, trying desperately to get it undone with one hand. Finally it came loose, and Vaughn instantly shoved her trousers down her long tanned legs, seeing a matching pair of underwear of black lace underneath.

"Did you plan this?"

"Maybe…" she flashed him a Cheshire cat grin and his mouth moved lower. He bit onto her hip, leaving a lovely copy of his dental records then sucking hard, leaving it as two sets of teeth surrounded by a blood-risen purple mark. His hands were everywhere at once, gripping each breast and moving lower to tease her sides gently before running down her arms and grabbing her wrists to hold them in a powerful grip with one hand.

"Can we move this to the bedroom?" she asked, feeling his sliding fingers move closer to her moist center.

"What's wrong with the kitchen table?"

"We don't need to break it like the office chair…need I remind you how **that **one ended." She laughed a deep throaty chuckle, making their hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand to attention.

"If you insist…" he pulled at her arms and propelled her up and over his shoulder, carrying her the slight distance to her bedroom. Kicking the door closed behind him, he walked brusquely over to the bed and tossed her down, her body bouncing slightly on the coverlet.

She started to sit up, but his hand pushing against her chest stopped her, his voice demanding as he told her to stay put. He walked over to the closet and opened it halfway, reaching in and grabbing a couple of the few things he kept at her place – two silk ties.

"Vaughn…" she groaned, watching him as he stalked back over to her and began cinching her wrists to the bedposts behind her head. To be honest, he tied them a bit tighter than last time, but she wasn't going to be to one to complain. He moved away from her then, watching her test his knots as she determined that she probably couldn't escape without help, and even if she could get free it would ruin his fun.

He stood calmly at the edge of the bed, his fingers moving slowly, too slowly for her liking, to each button of his shirt, reaching the bottom and then pulling it from his pants - finishing before he slid it over his built shoulders. His hands stopped when he reached his belt, unbuckling it before pulling it free from the confining loops and sending it across the floor to join his discarded shirt. His pants slid down his legs after her toed off his shoes and yanked off his socks, making sure she noticed that he hadn't worn any boxers.

"Did you plan this?" Her breathless question made him look up, if at all possible his cock growing harder at the sight of her bound and helpless – though he knew the thought of Sydney Bristow being helpless was laughable, he entertained it anyway.

"Maybe…" Grinning and completely bare, he crawled up to her on the bed, his hardness bouncing and occasionally slapping against his stomach as he gripped her legs between his, forcing her knees apart and keeping the ankles together with his. His lips softly caressed hers making her moan into his mouth, but that quickly changed when she squeaked and bit his tongue as his knee pressed against her mound. He pulled back, seeing the apology written in her eyes though she wasn't vocal with her thoughts.

He let his hands trail down her body, his short fingernails scratching and leaving marks in certain spots until they flitted over her clothed center, her hips involuntarily jumping off the bed. He kept one arm up to pin her down as the other slid inside her panties and began to tease her nether-lips, his finger sliding along the wet slit until he reached her nub of nerves – her hips jumping once more.

"Vaughn…"

"What?"

"You know I don't beg…"

"We'll see about that." He grinned and moved down to join his hands as they slid her underwear down her legs, pulling back far enough for her to kick them off herself.

His mouth inched lower, showering her body with nips, bites and licks before ending at her navel. She giggled when his tongue dipped inside, claiming that she was very ticklish there, and he smiled at the thought of finding yet another spot that could drive her mad. Because they'd only been dating for such a short time, he hadn't exactly been able to fine tune his hands to her body - but he was bent on learning, and there was no time like the present.

Without warning, he shoved two fingers into her quivering heat, making her cry out and pull at the restraints keeping her hands from caressing him like she desperately wanted to. His tongue left her belly button and moved lower, the first flick of it over her clit making her buck her hips up. He set one hand firmly against her lower abdomen to keep her down as his two fingers began moving quickly, his tongue picking up a frantic pace against the button of nerves.

Her orgasm rose quickly, Vaughn finding her g-spot and rubbing it with his imbedded digits while he abandoned licking and sucked her clit abruptly into his mouth. The contracting of her internal muscles, coupled with the half screaming half mewling noises she was making made him signals that she was close, so he stopped entirely to yank his fingers out and release her from his mouth. He looked up at her, smiling seductively at her wide eyes and open mouth, no words or sounds coming out as she stared down at him in shock.

"What the hell, Vaughn? You can't just leave me like that!" She growled, twisting more at the ties binding her to the bed as she throbbed and ached to finish the job herself.

"You said you won't beg?" He asked, propping his head up on his hand, supported by his elbow beside her hip, and lightly flicked his finger over her swollen nub. She whimpered while trying to increase his pressure by lifting her hips, but his arms pushing against her stomach kept her hips more or less on the bed.

"Nope. Not gonna." She growled and bit her lip, seeing the determination fill his eyes.

"Okay." He dove back in, his mouth alternating between sucking and licking as his fingers pressed against her internal button on each in-stroke. He brought her to the peak the backed off, letting her teeter just short of the edge as she was forced to move backwards, glaring at him through nearly violet colored eyes, her passion evident. He did it once more, bringing her up and finally letting her spill over as he moved quickly to impale his hard cock into her contracting core. Starting off with a near-violent pace he drove her hips into the bed, his mouth suctioning over hers as she tasted herself on his lips.

She ached to touch him, the cloth beginning to chafe the delicate skin of her wrists as Michael pounded against her, driving out two more orgasms before she felt him spill into her with a loud grunt, falling against her chest with a thud.

He lay on her for a few minutes trying to get his bearings as she breathed heavily beneath him.

"Vaughn?"

"Ya, baby?"

"My hands hurt." She grumbled, hating to ruin the intimate moment, but her fingers were well past the numb stage and had begun to throb.

Tenderly he pulled out and away from her while reaching up to undo the ties as she wiggled her raw wrists to try and get circulation back to her abandoned fingertips.

"I thought you said it wasn't too rough…" he growled, taking each hand into his own and kissing the sore flesh of her wrists.

"Sometimes I like it rough." She smiled, her dimples showing as she placed a loving kiss to his mouth before they pulled the covers back and climbed in, falling asleep quickly in the warm cocoon they'd created.

* * * * *

A/N: I'll post a couple more chapters today, just to get it up here.

-Jean


	2. Chapter 2: The Office Chair

A/N: So my good friend BlueBird was reading this little fic, and she ran across the part in the last chapter where Sydney says:

"_Can we move this to the bedroom?" she asked, feeling his sliding fingers move closer to her moist center._

"What's wrong with the kitchen table?"

"We don't need to break it like the office chair…need I remind you how that one ended." She laughed a deep throaty chuckle, making their hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand to attention."

And she asked, "Jean…what happened with the office chair? That sounds exciting…"

And so I thought, "Hmm… that does sound exciting…"

And I got to thinking… and said let's write it. So here it is; part 2/2 of this little story.

Chapter 2: The Office Chair

Sydney sighed, rubbing between her eyes and wishing desperately that she hadn't left her Advil sitting on the nightstand. She gave up, ignoring the pounding in her temples as she tried to concentrate on the report she had been working on.

It was late - Weiss, Vaughn, Sydney and Marshall were the only people in the main part of their offices and though it was rumored that Kendall and Jack were somewhere in the building, they hadn't been spotted in over twenty minutes. She looked over at Marshall, seeing that he'd fallen asleep in his chair with his head propped on his open briefcase, papers sticking to his forehead. She grinned, moving her line of sight over to Eric as he played an old version of Pong on his computer. Marshall must have hooked that up for him, and she giggled quietly before finally peeking over at Vaughn.

He was the only one of the group actually getting any work done. His jacket had been removed, as well as his tie, and he typed slowly on the keyboard with his rolled sleeves bouncing at the movement of his wrists. She missed his holster, though he had managed to pull it out of a box the other night and surprise her when she came home from her Switzerland mission debrief. She'll never forget the moment she walked into the apartment and found him lying on her bed completely naked - wearing only a smile, a hard-on, and his holster.

A blush rose from her neck as she remembered how she enjoyed the holster (and everything else) that evening and she undid the first two buttons of her blouse, shrugging out of her overcoat. She redoubled her efforts on the report, typing away until the words began to flow and she entered the place every attentive desk-jockey has been: a place Weiss liked to call 'The Zone of the Secretary.'

Vaughn stopped working, his mind wandering as he typed in the name Agent Bristow. He looked over at where she was sitting, doing a double take when he noticed that she had removed her jacket and unbuttoned her shirt. He glimpsed the sweaty sheen on her neck and frowned. She was forever complaining about it being too cold in the offices, always having a jacket or sweater handy to keep her warm while sitting at her desk.

She had a slight flush to her cheeks and he frowned deeper before standing and walking over to her desk. She didn't even notice as he moved around to stand behind her, so intent on her report, so he read a bit over her shoulder. As he skimmed, he noticed a few slight errors.

**- 4:09 AM -**

Agent Vaughn and Agent Bristow intercept communication from the suspect's contact detailing a meet between Agent Davenport and the suspect, Steven Giles.

Giles relayed false information and Agents Vaughn and Bristow moved in.

Vaughn holstered the suspect while Agent Bristow moved in on Giles' contact.  


'_Holstered_?' What the hell does holstered mean? Obviously a typo, but he crossed his arms over his chest and continued to read over her shoulder with a small smirk and a cocked eyebrow.

**- 4:15 -**

Agents Weiss and Bristow detained the contact as both suspects were taken into custody by MI-5.

Agent Vaughn hard the transmission from the CIA and all agents were ordered to abort.  


Holstered? Hard? Now the blush made sense. She had been thinking of the time when…

A large and mischievous smile spread across his face, his dimples popping out, and he leaned forward to press his nose against the spot behind her ear where she applied her perfume. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent as she went still, her fingers poised over the keys as she cursed herself for zoning out.

"Where is your mind, Agent Bristow?"

"On my report, where yours should be, Agent Vaughn."

"Oh really? 'Vaughn holstered the suspect'?"

She blushed and hid her face in her hands as she heard his chuckle behind her, his hot breath against her skin. He heard her muttered curse as he laughed low, brushing his fingers against the length of her throat to move her hair over her shoulder.

"What were you really thinking about?" he whispered, licking the spot of perfumed skin, causing her to hiss in response.

"Vaughn…not here," she ordered, rolling away from him slightly in her padded chair.

"Why not?" Vaughn asked, following after her.

"Well, my father could come in here for starters," she began.

"And secondly?" He latched his mouth against her racing pulse point and sucked, pulling away with a smack and tracing the purple-red mark he'd just placed on her soft skin with the tip of his finger.

"Ummm…well – Kendall could. . ." she tried to continue.

"Nah. They're in analysis," Vaughn answered.

"That doesn't mean that-"

"Yes, it does. We've got at least an hour," he grinned, seeing her weighing the options before daring to look up at him. He saw the desire in her eyes, knowing some of it was stemming from the newness of their relationship, but the moment her eyes traced his body he knew she was game.

"Get a room!" Eric snapped from the opposite side of the room as he glowered at the two flirting agents before returning to his game.

"Good advice," she said breathlessly, standing quickly and sending the chair rolling a few feet away as she grabbed her boyfriend's hand.

"Whoa, you're really going along with this? I…I didn't think," Vaughn stammered.

"What?" she interrupted, dragging the now-reluctant agent down an adjacent hallway toward an empty conference room before continuing. "Didn't think I'd call your bluff? Think again. There are plenty of things that I'd rather do than write that stupid report," she murmured, the tightness in Vaughn's trousers growing more uncomfortable by each breathy word she emitted.

"Including doing what we're thinking about doing in the conference room Kendall always uses? You do realize that I'll never be able to sit at this table again without thinking…" Vaughn trailed off as she stepped even closer.

"Without thinking of what?" Sydney challenged, pushing him back into the chair and causing it to roll a few feet away. She started with the buttons of her blouse, slowly and deliberately undoing them one by one until the garment was opened wide with her lacy black bra showing.

"I'll get back to you about that," he growled, kicking with his feet until he was sitting in front of her long lean body.

He hauled her into his lap, the sudden spread of her legs forcing a small tear in her skirt.

"Damnit, Vaughn, I liked this skirt," she growled after hearing the ripping of material and finding the hem forced apart.

"Hey, you started it," he growled before descending on her neck with a vicious love bite, a purple mark left in his wake.

Her hands clawed at his heavy jacket, one slipping between their writhing bodies to undo the button pinning it together before shoving it off of his shoulders as his mouth found its way up to hers.

His tongue swiftly entered her mouth to duel with her own, and she cracked open an eye to untangle the knot that was his tie. Breaking apart with an audible smack, she growled in frustration as Vaughn's fingers slid up her thighs, finding the edge of the thigh-high pantyhose. Pausing there, his hands gripped her legs in a tight hold as she, in the midst of desperately trying to undo the striped contraption around his neck, unwittingly shoved the knot up rather than slipping it down.

He saw stars as she chuckled momentarily; a faint apology intermingled with her breathy laughter. She set a kiss to his nose as the fabric finally hung in two limp strands on either side of his neck. She leaned in, sucking at his Adam's apple as his hands continued their journey underneath her skirt.

Vaughn groaned as she moved around the left side of his throat, her mouth paving a wet trail as her fingers busied themselves with the clasps of his own shirt. She found the spot underneath his earlobe, feeling him shiver against her body and force her legs tighter around his lap.

She shifted, looking back to see that the chair didn't have a straight flat back, but rather a round padded top, a thin short neck, and then the seat complete with armrests. Rearranging her legs so that each of them straddled his body, her limbs fit perfectly through the gaps made by his body and put his bulging trousers in contact with her cotton-covered core.

They moaned in unison, her mouth leaving his neck as they met each other with fervor. Managing to open his shirt completely, she saw stunned to see that he hadn't worn an undershirt.

"Well, that made my job a bit easier," she commented, pulling back with a smile to survey their compromising position. One dip and the light chair could topple, but that would make for an adventurous bout of lovemaking.

Though…this danced on the fine line between romantically making love and hot f**king.

Her hands pressed into his chest, fingernails skimming over nipples and down his rippling abdomen until they found the straining material of his dress pants. Cupping his cock through the fabric made a feral growl escape his throat, his hands that were once massaging her upper thighs lightly moved up and grabbed at the junction of her panties, roughly pulling them aside.

She barely made out the utterance, "Enough," before his moist, hot tongue invaded her mouth and two hard fingers pushed into her warmth. She gasped, pulling away from his lips as her hands trembled at his belt, button and zipper, trying to focus on her task while his hand alternated between thrusting with his thumb rubbing at her clit and staying imbedded to the hilt to locate her g-spot.

"God, Vaughn, come on – give me a minute," she grunted, finally releasing his pent up hardness as it sprang out and slapped against her stomach.

His hand left her core and moved directly to her hips, the tear in the side of her skirt growing as he bunched the material around her waist. If anyone were to walk into the room right now, it was inevitable that what they were about to see would be a complete disregard to office etiquette.

Yet here they were, Vaughn resting comfortably in the office chair with Sydney straddling his lap. He was trying to keep his feet anchored to the floor to prevent the chair from rolling across the room during their f**k in the middle of the conference room, but he wasn't too sure how long his muscles would last.

All coherent thought, however, was completely blown from his mind as she grabbed his rock hard cock with both hands and pushed herself up with strong runner's legs. He helped by lifting her with his muscled arms, and together they got the tip aligned with her center.

Letting go abruptly, she sank down with a startled gasp, her hands flying up to rest against his chest. Their eyes closed with pleasure as he picked her up once more and dropped her to the hilt onto his erection. She wiggled her hips from side to side, sometimes throwing him off with a circular motion as he started to thrust up into her pliable body.

Reaching down with her hand, she found the lever that tilted the chair back and pulled it. Dipping back suddenly, both agents found themselves lying almost horizontal as he found a bit more purchase to thrust up with their new position. Her hands reclaimed their place on his pectorals, fingernails digging into his skin as she rocked back to meet his cock.

The pleasure intensified, and Vaughn's eyes opened momentarily to focus on his lover as she sat perched above him. Cursing himself for not releasing what hid behind the sexy black lace, he watched as her half-covered breasts bounced in an almost taunting fashion. Giving in to the temptation, his mouth latched around one of the jiggling mounds, the hot moistness of his tongue contrasted the cool fabric and made her gasp.

Her hands instantly left from their perch on his chest and moved to the arms of the squeaking chair. This gave them a bit more leverage for deeper penetration, and as he bottomed out he knew the end was near.

He redoubled his efforts, tilting farther back in the creaking chair to push his thrusting hard-on farther into her c*nt, their groans and harsh whispers echoing in the large, empty conference room. Alternating between pushing up with his hips and pulling her down with his hands, coupled with her rotating hips, they toppled over the edge; she with a high pitched mewl that vaguely sounded like his name, and he with a hoarse shout as she milked his orgasm from him slowly.

The intense aftershocks passed quickly, her body flat over his with her face buried into his neck. She pulled away a few moments later, brushing a loving kiss to his mouth with swollen lips, her eyes opening slowly. He studied her face for a minute, seeing the beautiful brown of her eyes and the purple hue shining around the iris.

"You're beautiful," his voice was a deep, ragged whisper; she pressed up to get closer to him by using the armrests, hearing a creaking groan before they gave way.

With a startled gasp – her hands being her only support other than Vaughn's body below her – she slammed forward into his chest, which, in turn, forced him back against the tilted back of the chair. Their combined weight with the pressure against the small metal rod bent it backwards at an odd, unfixable angle.

"Good God, we broke the chair," he grunted, hearing her laugh and joining her.

Unfortunately, with both of their bodies upsetting the balance of the chair, and Vaughn lifting his legs to try and help steady his breathless girlfriend, the wheels had their chance to roll. Sliding back in a rush they plaowed into the – thankfully – carpeted floor, Vaughn's head slamming into the ground as Sydney's knees landed with two harsh thumps on either side of his hips.

The chairs back was imbedded in his spine, underneath his rib cage, forcing the air from his lungs as they lay sprawled on the floor.

Just as they thought the end of their adventurous sex couldn't get any worse, the door to the conference room flew open. Thankfully they were lying with their sides mostly facing the door. Due to their rush in the beginning, most of their clothes were still in tact. Still, Sydney's hand flew to her hip and tugged the torn skirt down until at least half of her backside was barely covered.

"Oh…oh God…I didn't-" Marshall's stutter drew their eyes to the staring techie standing with saucer-sized eyes. "I hadn't realized this room was…ah…being – used…for some," he paused with a gulp, holding up a folder to cover his eyes as he sashayed sideways to the computer at the end of the table. Fumbling around on the side of the machine he located and unplugged the USB cable before making his way out of the room without chancing another glance at the sprawled couple in an extremely compromising situation.

"Well," Vaughn smirked, seeing Sydney's bright red face turn from the empty doorway to look at his own astonished eyes. "That'll make for interesting office gossip," he laughed.

She grinned with a groan, leaning down and shoving her face into his chest as the door opened once more and a camera flashed.

"Hoo hoo! Marshall's stuttering wasn't enough to describe this one!" Weiss busted as he snapped a one more photo of the wide-eyed couple, leaving just as quickly as he'd entered.

"Fucking Eric," Vaughn growled, disentangling himself from Sydney as she tried to free her legs from the toppled chair, Weiss' laughter still echoing as the doors closed completely.

* * * * *

A/N: There you go guys!!! There's the end! WOO HOO! My friend BlueBird gave me some great ideas, so we'll probably just be making this story a series of vignettes whenever we have a story idea (and if I need a break from the grueling writing of HYE – ppft) Anywho, enjoy and this'll probably have more chapter, with each one just being smut and unconnected.

Thanks for being so patient, I LOVE YOU GUYS!

-Jean


	3. Chapter 3: Handcuffs and Holsters

A/N: So I'm going with the holster idea mentioned in the previous chapter, however - I'm going to change a few details. Mainly because I wrote it and I'm allowed to do that. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Handcuffs and Holsters

A ringing phone woke Sydney from a restless sleep, and she rolled over to grab the cell from the small nightstand beside the bed. Seeing the flashing green light of the screen, she blinked a few times before being able to read the number listed. It wasn't one she recognized, tentatively, she pushed the button and set the phone to her ear.

"Bristow," her voice, though trying to make herself sound alert and unafraid, was a gravely and sleepy drawl.

Sitting up against the headboard while waiting for a reply, the cool night air hit her bare shoulders, and briefly she wished she'd slipped into something more than just a camisole and a pair of cotton underwear to sleep in.

"Hello?" she called once more, hearing a shuffle on the other end and what sounded – to her – like an iron gate being closed.

"Joey's Pizza," Vaughn's low, lusty voice came through her earpiece, visibly calming the now wide-awake female agent.

"Damnit, Vaughn," she growled, looking over at the bedside clock to see that it was 4:17 in the morning. "You should have been home last night," she spat out.

"Joey's Pizza?" he questioned her this time.

"No – I'm not going to play your little game. Not at 4:17 in the morning," she grumbled, sliding back into the bed and pulling the coverlet up to her chin, keeping the phone tucked between the pillow and her ear.

"Joey's Pizza has a confirmed delivery to Warehouse 47," he tempted once more, Sydney finally starting to acknowledge that the only way his call would stop would be to play along.

"Vaughn, come on," she sat up once again, kicking her legs out over the edge of the bed, her feet curling when they came into contact with the cold hardwood floor. "Just come home, I'll play with you here."

"A large hard pizza with a side of holster will be waiting for the next fifteen minutes. I can't promise this offer will be on the table later, Agent Bristow," he replied sternly.

She sighed, though it was more of a moaned growl, rising from the bed and pulling on a pair of Vaughn's much-too-long, plaid and pull-string sleep pants. "Fine, I'll be there in twenty," she snapped, turning the phone off and tossing it onto the bed, slipping her feet into a pair a pair of flip flops, realizing they were Vaughn's as well.

"Oh, well," she mumbled, stumbling over the long shoes and making her way out to the living room in search of her keys. Running a hand through her hair, the thought of brushing the strands – or her teeth for that matter – ran through her head, but she dismissed the notion quickly. He deserved morning breath and a disheveled Sydney for pulling this little game so early in the morning.

Vaughn yawned as he stepped out of the taxi, a block away from the warehouse. Paying the man and lifting his suitcase from the trunk, the driver left him standing on the curb. Walking with tired steps toward the famed meeting spot in his and Sydney's 'handler/asset' days, he had to grin at the idea running through his head. For two weeks he'd had a hard-on because of the game she'd initiated – but not finished – an hour before he boarded the plane.

He'd been planning this the whole flight back from Germany, and the bulge in his pants had not decreased. But, in every situation, there are both good and bad aspects, and this was one of those situations. He was going to get Sydney back for messing with him, but at the same time, he'd been in varying states of torture for the past week and a half. Opening the large iron door, he lifted his cell from the inside pocket of his jacket and pushed speed dial #1.

"Bristow," her voice was low and edgy, and he could tell that she hadn't received any more sleep in the last fourteen days than he had. Briefly, guilt flooded his system, but he forced himself to stay on track.

The lull in their conversation made her repeat herself over the phone, her voice slightly more alert. "Hello?"

"Joey's Pizza," he grinned, making sure she heard the low tone she once affectionately called the 'sex voice'.

He heard her grumble through the phone and grinned, knowing she was most likely annoyed by his call.

"Damnit, Vaughn, you should have been home last night."

Again, another small surge of guilt was replaced by a small twitch in his trousers at the sound of her voice. "Joey's Pizza?" he asked quickly, hoping she'd get the message that he wasn't going to stop until she agreed to meet him.

"No – I'm not going to play your little game. Not at 4:17 in the morning," she growled, Vaughn double-checking his watch and seeing that it was indeed 4:17 AM.

'Oh well,' he thought. 'The earlier the better, I guess.' He sighed, his mouth away from the phone as he used the last card in his up-the-sleeve arsenal. "A large hard pizza with a side of holster will be waiting for the next fifteen minutes. I can't promise this offer will be on the table later, Agent Bristow," he told her sternly.

He heard another rumble over the phone, going from his ear directly to his cock, and he couldn't help but get harder when he realized she'd gotten up and was putting on some clothes.

"Fine," she snapped. "I'll be there in twenty."

With that, their short conversation ended and he briefly did a small, Weiss-like dance. He waited for fifteen minutes before hearing her car pull up through the cracked open door at the front of the building.

Her hair was still tousled from sleep, and there wasn't a trace of make-up on her face. To him, she'd never looked more beautiful. Briefly, he wondered if she'd been sleeping naked. Every once and a while, when he'd come back from a particularly difficult operation, he crawl into bed – bone tired – and come skin to skin with a very naked Sydney. Those were his favorite nights.

As she stepped into the light, he noticed his draw-string pajama pants hanging dangerously low on her hips, the styled, black cotton panties peeking above the waist band. Her favorite maroon camisole was easy to spot, even in the waning light of the warehouse, and his rock-hard erection pressed impatiently against the zipper of his dress pants.

"You'd better have a good excuse for this, Vaughn, I was very much asleep," she growled, tossing open the gate, the heavy metal sliding closed behind her as she looked up at him with fiery brown eyes.

She barely had time to register what was happening as his mouth crashed over hers, his hands tangling in the already tangled tresses of her highlighted brown hair, his tongue invading her mouth.

Once she got over the shock of his urgent kiss, she responded with equal fervor. Her own hands slid inside his jacket and found the straps of his holster, using them as leverage to pull his body flush against her own. They broke away to draw in deep ragged breaths before they met once more, mouths and lips dueling as he sucked her tongue into his hot mouth.

She barely felt his hands as they slid from her hair, occasionally getting caught in the strands, moving over her shoulders and down her arms. He pulled away from her swollen mouth with a wet pop, trailing her jaw line with his tongue before sucking at the pulse point of her throat. His teeth bit into the sensitive skin between neck and shoulder, and all she could do was groan, her eyes closing against the sensations.

A momentary flick of cold metal against her wrists made her eyes pop open as the handcuffs securely fastened her to the chain-link gate she'd been crushed up against.

"Vaughn…what the-" she wondered, looking with wide, lust-filled eyes up at her lover.

He'd managed to handcuff both of her hands together, using a second pair to attach the dangling chain between both cuffs to the fence behind her. Swaying the small set of keys in front of her eyes, she watched with bated breath as he crossed to a table about seven feet away, placing the keys neatly on the tattered, worn surface.

"How are you going to get free, Agent Bristow?" he asked, his voice sensually ragged as he still sucked air into his starving lungs.

"You've got to be kidding me," she snarled, the lust still circling her irises with a swirl of black, but the fiery and angry brown shining back at him with a feral ferocity.

"Payback's a b****, isn't it, baby," he grinned with a wink, watching her struggle with the cuffs for a moment before fixing glaring eyes back on him.

"Undo these," she ordered, seeing him shake his head gleefully. "You son of a-"

"Whoa, whoa – this isn't any time for that kind of language. Now, I'm gonna head home and jump into bed. If you want, I'd love for you to join me,"

"But I was already _**in **_bed!" she countered with a yell.

"Well, you didn't have to come out here at all. For goodness' sake, Sydney, it's 4:40 in the morning," he grumbled in reply, lifting her purse and grabbing the keys to her car.

"Wait!" she shouted as he started to walk away. Turning back with a curious gleam in his eyes, she continued. "How the hell am I gonna get home?" she asked, a sudden desperation in her voice intermingling with anger.

"You're a CIA agent," he turned, walking back to the door where he paused, looking back at his struggling Sydney. "You'll think of something," he laughed, closing the door behind him as he jumped into her car, driving the ten minutes back to her apartment.

Once inside, he started setting everything up. Sydney, being a fairly efficient agent, shouldn't take too long to get out of those cuffs. Especially since he'd left the keys a mere seven or so feet away. He'd only have a few minutes before she was free, and knowing Sydney, she'd probably walk (or jog or run) the entire way back, her anger smoldering and steaming.

In short, "She's gonna be ready to blow her freakin' top," he muttered to himself, grabbing the lighter from the drawer in the kitchen and lighting the stress-releasing candles she'd strategically placed around the room. His mind flicked over to Francie and Will, and he jogged over to their bedroom.

Placing his ear against the door, he didn't hear anything unusual, but he also didn't hear the sound of a sleeping couple. Cracking it open, the small ray of light from the living room bathed the bed in a soft glow. It was made, complete with pillows at the headboard, and he broke out into a large, beaming smile before closing it once more.

Shedding his jacket quickly, opening the closet door and tossing it in, he struggled for a moment with his holster, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into a corner. Removing it completely in order to take off the crisp, button-up shirt, he tossed the garment over the back of the couch before sliding his arms back into the straps of leather, fastening it around his waist. Stumbling while shedding his pants, he made his way to the bedroom to see the bed neatly turned down, his side messy while her side looked barely slept in.

His heart warmed slightly at the thought of Sydney sleeping on his pillow while he was away. Much like him spraying a bit of her perfume on his sleep shirt for those particularly long nights where he waited for the elusive sleep to come. Of course, he'd never let her know that – or Weiss, for obvious reasons – but he found some consolation in the fact that she missed him almost as much as he missed her.

Spreading the wrinkles out of the bottom sheet, he whipped off the heavy coverlet and tossed it haphazardly onto the floor at the foot of the bed. Sitting on the edge he pulled his socks off, chucking them into the nearly full laundry basket before standing and removing his boxers, his hard-on springing out and standing to attention. Piling the pillows up against the backboard, he climbed from the bottom of the bead to the top, the cool sheets a startling contrast to his hot skin.

Resting calmly against the ornate wood, his eyes couldn't help but focus on the open door as he rested, in all of his glory, wearing nothing but his holster and an erection.

"Son of a b****!" she growled, his laughter being cut off abruptly by the closing of the heavy iron door.

'Honestly, I guess I do deserve it after what I did to him a couple weeks ago, but this is just going too far,' her mind argued, though she was far too angry to listen to her rational side.

Her eyes scanned the area around her, and - despite the blood rushing in her ears - she was able to see an abandoned chair beside her. Using her feet, she tipped the seat over, a loud bang echoing in the empty warehouse as the metal met the cement. Edging it forward until the back of the chair was underneath the table, she pushed the leg and caused it to turn slightly toward her.

The back was now at a ninety-degree angle around the table leg, and, kicking a flip-flop off to curl her toe around the small metal bar between the two front legs of the folding chair, she pulled. The position was awkward and the cuffs dug into her hands. Though he'd left enough room for it not to be painful, there wasn't nearly enough room for her hands to slip through – unfortunately.

Pulling until the corner of the table got wedged inside one of the diamond shaped holes of the fencing, she used the shoeless foot to reach up and grab the keys, her big toe curling around the ring and getting a firm grasp. Snatching them off of the table, she bent her leg back until she kicked her bound hands, her long fingers grabbing the keys. She struggled for a moment, turning her neck in an uncomfortable angle to try and see where her fingers were going.

She finally heard the pop of the lock, her right hand free from the confining metal. Turning quickly, she undid the left and – grabbing her purse – made her way out of the warehouse. The sky to the east was a pale blue, and she glanced at her watch to confirm that it was indeed time for the sun to come up. 5:11 AM.

During her thirty-minute walk back to the apartment, she'd managed to cool down a bit, but the intense heat between her legs had increased significantly. Vaughn wouldn't have just left her there to go home and wash to dishes, he had to be planning something. And – quite frankly – she was excited as hell.

Of course, on the off chance, she could come home to find him wrapped up in a warm blanket sleeping soundly.

"Nah," she muttered to herself. Ignoring the various catcalls from cars as they drove by, she wondered why she hadn't thought to throw a t-shirt on over her camisole.

'Well, it wasn't like I'd planned on getting handcuffed to a fence by my significant other,' she contradicted in her mind, once against arguing with herself. Coming up to the front door of the apartment, she saw nothing in the front window.

"You've gotta be kidding me," she growled, trying the doorknob and finding it unlocked. Tossing it open, she saw his shoes were kicked into the corner along side her tennies. Nothing too much out of place, his shirt was tossed over the back of the couch - and upon further inspection, she opened the closet door to see his jacket laying on the floor atop her gym bag.

"Michael Christopher Vaughn, you had better be awake," she shouted, slipping out of the flip-flops and shoving them into the corner, making her way to the bedroom.

The door was open and a faint flickering of candlelight illuminated the hallway. Walking into the room, she stopped in her tracks to see Michael languidly sprawled across the bed, his naked body looking like a golden god in the dancing light of the flickering candles. He was wearing his holster still, his hand openly stroking his still engorged cock, catching her eyes as she watched him.

"Took you a bit longer than I'd expected," he commented, his voice catching as the tip of his thumb circled the crown of his erection, the bead of moisture reflecting the light.

"You know, you really didn't have to go through all the trouble. I was already warm and snuggly in that very bed," she commented wryly, her fingers slowly moving up to undo the hair she'd tossed up in a pony tail after searching desperately for a hair tie in her purse. Letting the strands fall around her shoulders, she watched him squirm on the bed as his fingers continued the gentle massage, moving down to cup his sac momentarily before moving north once more to circle the shaft.

Her hands skimmed her chest, slowly working down her abs until she reached the hem of her light shirt. Lifting it inch by inch, she took her time. Moving at a snail's pace when slipping it over her head, giving him an ample view of her bare chest, her nipples perking out in both arousal and as a reaction to the cool circulating air within the apartment.

Moving to the drawstring pants, she undid the bow with a flick of her wrist and shimmied out of them, leaving the garment pooled at her feet. She stood with the black cotton panties snugly fitted to her waist, her fingers hooking the elastic and tugging them down to join the rest of her clothes on the floor.

At the sight of her completely nude and standing in front of him, he involuntarily gave a quick squeeze to the shaft of his cock, blood pooling at the base and making the tip turn purple until he let go. Letting go with a grunt, he sat up and slid his feet off the edge of the bed. Reaching out to her, she walked the few feet forward, using the leather straps of his holster to pull herself closer. His mouth instantly went for her bellybutton, tongue tracing the edge before dipping in, only to leave her navel and travel up to her breasts.

Licking each peak affectionately, he buried his nose into the valley between, his hands gripping the tops of her thighs, spreading them a few inches. His ring finger followed the crack of her backside until it opened up to her moist center, slipping between her folds and locating her swollen button easily.

Teasing her gently with soft strokes, her hands clung to his shoulders to keep herself from falling over. She felt the stubble of his cheeks and chin as his mouth sucked on the racing pulse point between her collar bones, one trailing down to his stomach where his extremely erect cock curved up, the head resting above his belly button. She swirled a finger around the tip, spreading the pearly pre-come as she took the tip in her hand, gripping gently.

He groaned, his mouth leaving her skin to be replaced by a hot rush of air, cooling her heated flesh. Driving two fingers up into her trembling core, she cried out before falling against him, her feet slipping as the small rug beside the bed gave way to the slick wood surface of the floor.

She laughed as he caught her, rolling mid-catch until he ended up above her with a large smile splitting his face.

"I missed you, baby," he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her cheek before she turned her head and captured his mouth with her own.

"You too," she spoke between kisses, his invading tongue making her eyes close as they sought to memorize each other's taste.

She felt his hardness insistent against her stomach, and pressing up with her hips she informed him that she was ready. Still, he took his time with his mouth and hands, re-exploring the contours of her body. Grabbing his erection in his fist, he pointed it toward her opening and teased her before pressing the head in slowly. Once the tip was in, surrounded by her warmth, he pulled away completely and repeated the process. Each time, only allowing an inch or so to enter her body.

"Vaughn," she growled, though it was something akin to a moan, and he chuckled from above her.

As soon as she opened her eyes to glare at him, he thrust with his hips and his entire length dove its way into her scorching heat. She gasped, mouth and eyes open wide as he grinned, pulling back and hammering into her once more. Though he was content to watch her beneath him, her body was too tight for his eyes to remain open. Concentrating all of his energy on pleasing the woman below him, his hands moved from their position beside her head and dipped down to her waist. This pressed his upper body into hers, and her hands quickly found their place over his shoulder blades.

The pace quickened, one arm propping himself up as the other traced her body. He ran a finger over her cheek, moving to her lips to examine their fullness. As soon as the pad of his finger touched her mouth she reacted. Placing a wet kiss to the digit, her tongue lapping at it momentarily, he opened his eyes and found her staring up at him.

With a smile of his own he leaned in and pressed a heated kiss to her mouth. He could feel her beginning to contract around him, her internal muscles waiting to milk him dry, and his hips unwittingly sped up. Pushing himself back up over her, her hands rhythmically clenching his shoulders, he began to piston in and out of her warm, tight body.

"God, Vaughn," she groaned, pressing her face into his throat as his cock began to pulse against her walls. Squeezing one last time before she imploded.

Crying out, her fingers wrapping around the leather over his back, she tumbled off of the cliff. Vaughn followed after a few well-placed thrusts before collapsing over her body, each gasping for air.

"Good **God**, woman, you're gonna **kill **me," he muttered, his mouth kissing her neck with a loud smack.

She merely laughed, pushing his chest up as the holster began to dig into her stomach. "As much as I love it - it's killin' me,"

Slipping it from his shoulders it was tossed to the floor. Vaughn pulled out and away from her, reaching out for the blankets on the ground in front of the bed. A loud smack on his backside made him yelp, turning to face her with socked eyes, one hand tugging at the comforter and the other rubbing the red hand-print showing up the sensitive skin of his rear.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"Handcuffing me to a gate after getting me all aroused, you ass," she growled, pulling him in for one last kiss and snuggling into his shoulder.

"Well – you deserved it," he countered, stifling a yawn after pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Doesn't matter,"

"Yeah…yeah it does," he grumbled, each half asleep as their argument dimmed to heated whispers. "I didn't say that I didn't enjoy it, but still. Torture has its limits, and now you know what to avoid if you're not looking forward to handcuffs and holsters."

"Well when you put it like that…" she grinned before falling asleep, her cheek resting against the warm flesh of his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist, his fingers moving lightly over her skin as he joined her in the world of slumber.

A/N: I beta'd the last couple pages, mainly because I just wanted to get it up. Thanks for reading! And I know you're all wondering, "What the hell did Sydney do to Vaughn before he left on his mission?"

You know what that means, right? **Chapter 4!!!**

Don't forget to drop me a review! Thanks!

-Jean


	4. Chapter 4: Undeniable

A/N: Farther into the fic, the purple is Syd's message and the blue is Vaughn's.

Chapter 4: Undeniable

"You don't have to go, you know," Sydney coaxed as she leaned against Vaughn's desk, arms crossed over her chest.

"Syd, come on. How often do you and I go on separate missions?" he asked, turning and looking over at her from where his hands were shoving folders filled to the brim with papers into his briefcase.

"Hardly ever," she grumbled, looking down to her shoes as she tilted her foot up and ground her heel into the floor.

"It's only two weeks," he started only to be interrupted by the young pouting woman.

"Yeah, two weeks of an extremely dangerous mission that could get you killed," she countered, her voice low as her eyes kept their focus on the spackled gray floor of the JTF. "Why wasn't I tasked to go with you?"

"Syd, I can take care of myself, you know this," pausing and taking a furtive glance around the room, he pulled her into their own corner. "What is this really about?"

"Vaughn, we just started dating, and I don't want all of this to be ruined. It's not like I've had a great track record with guys - you know that. I…I just don't want to know what it was like for you when I went out on missions," she admitted, seeing his eyes crinkle with a smile.

"That constant fear of not knowing what's happening?" he asked, finishing her sentence.

"Yeah," she muttered, her arms still crossed defensively over her stomach. She felt his hands grasp her elbows and pull her close, finally releasing her arms to wrap around his shoulders. "I'll miss you," she smiled and breathed in his unique scent, her nose pressed against his neck.

"Hey, I'm coming back; you have to know that by now. We didn't fight so long just to have me die on some meaningless op," he grinned and pulled back, seeing the faint edge of tears in her eyes. "Syd, don't cry, okay? There's nothing to be worried about. I've got Weiss as backup," he promised, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek tenderly as she let out a small laugh.

"Oh, yeah, that's reassuring," she mocked, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his mouth, her tongue tracing the line of his upper lip momentarily before pulling back. "Be safe."

"I will," he promised, turning and leaving her in their little hideaway.

She watched him walk away, gathering his things up from his desk before she left the room and ran headlong into Weiss.

"God, Syd, sorry. Totally wasn't looking where I was going," he apologized with a quick smile, bending down to pick up his Mission Folder from where it had landed on the floor. "See ya when we get back," he grinned and turned to follow Vaughn to Marshall's office for Op Tech gear.

"Hey, Eric?"

"Uh-oh, first name," he joked, but past the smile on his face she saw the seriousness in his eyes.

"Can you keep him safe for me?"

"Syd, I'm the one that got shot in the neck last time. You might ask him to protect me," Weiss tried to brush aside her favor, chalking it up to nerves on her part, but the pleading look she managed to squeeze from her doe-like eyes went straight to his heart.

Setting a comforting hand to her shoulder, he winked and went into Marshall's office. She'd retreated to her desk, determined to try and get something done, but not ten minutes had passed before a small message had appeared on her screen.

- Zone 4, forty seconds. I'm counting. -

A grin spread across her face as she stood, trying to keep her excitement at bay before walking calmly toward a back hallway. They'd named this secret little spot Zone Four because it was the fourth storage room in a line of six. Miscellaneous items filled the shelves in troves; neither one of them could muster enough courage to admit to having sex in a janitors' closet, so giving it a new name seemed only proper.

Zone Four had seen plenty of action over the last few months, and as she moved closer to the door – which was ajar – she couldn't help but feel the anticipation pool between her legs.

She opened the door, stepped into the closet, and closed it securely behind her. Before it even had a chance to latch she felt his arms wrap around her waist, his hands splaying across her flat stomach as they skirted underneath the dark blazer. He let out a disappointed grunt when he found that her blouse was tucked into the top of her skirt and she couldn't help but laugh.

She tried to turn in his arms, but his constant grip on her waist kept her facing away from him. With an exasperated sigh she reached her arms back and ran one across his cheek while the other cupped the back of his head, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

As his hands undid the buttons of her blouse, leaving it tucked firmly in the top of her skirt, he slid the blazer from her shoulders and pulled back far enough for it to land on his feet between them.

"I've only got ten minutes, so we'd better not play around," he spoke into her ear, his low voice making her tremble against him with hardly contained eagerness. "As much as I'd like to."

She could hear the regret in his voice and smiled, though she knew he couldn't see it in the darkness of the room. Managing to turn in his arms, she moved backwards until her thighs bumped into the edge of the stack of crates in the corner. Using the top one as leverage, she hoisted herself up and through the dim light underneath the door – and her adjusting eyes – she saw his silhouette and reached out for him.

He found her hand and guided his body between her open legs. "I'm glad you wore a skirt today," he smiled, leaning forward and reaching his hands into the gaping openness of Syd's blouse to feel her beneath his palms. The muscles of her firm stomach jumped when his hands caressed her soft skin, her moan being cut short as his mouth fastened over hers.

Though the closet wasn't as comfortable as some of the places they'd had sex in, the seclusion and privacy – especially at work – made it ideal. His hands drifted down, pulling the shirt from her waistband before running down her bent thighs, her legs instantly wrapping around his hips and locking behind his backside.

His tongue thrust up into her mouth as her hands skimmed over his fully clothed chest and down to his tenting trousers. Wasting no time in undoing the zipper, she reached her hand in and found the hole at the front of his boxers. Gripping his cock and fisting two or three times, he couldn't help but push up into her hand with a few small thrusts.

He reached up behind her, his hand sliding underneath her ass to pull her closer to the edge of the crate, one hand sliding between her outstretched legs to find her wet and ready. Sliding her panties aside and inserting his tongue in her mouth, he pushed quickly into her warmth.

She gasped at the sudden intrusion in both ends of her body, her fingers tangling through his hair as he pulled back and slammed to the hilt into her warm channel. The pace was quick and frenzied, and he desperately tried to ignore his watch when it beeped, indicating that their time together was spent before either of them were.

Her hand reached down between them, fingers spreading around his pumping cock as he gasped against her light touch. Moving north, her fingers began to play with her clit as he tilted his head down, wishing he could see exactly what she was doing to herself. Her other hand cupped the back of his neck and pulled him up to her mouth, their lips clashing as her walls began to tighten around his shaft, squeezing him in preparation for their impending climaxes.

Their mouths parted with a smack and he groaned against her lips as her fingers moved from their clutched position at the back of his neck to his shoulders, the fingers of her other hand moving from her own pleasure center to a splayed position against his taut lower stomach. Her nails scratched back and forth, caressing the sprinkling of hair on his abdomen as her body convulsed around his, pulling his orgasm from his body in hot spurts.

"God, Michael," she groaned, burying her face into his throat and nibbling at his moist skin, his body leaning heavily against hers as his watch went off once more.

"Just in time?" Sydney giggled breathlessly, pulling back and looking down at him.

"Actually it went off about five minutes ago, I just ignored it." He smiled, leaning in to brush a kiss to her swollen mouth before pressing the button to make the incessant noise stop.

"You're late," she mumbled, feeling him soften in her body and already regretting that their coupling was over.

"Yeah, sure am," he conceded, pulling her close for another quick – yet wet – kiss before moving away and tackling the task of fixing his clothing in the poor, if not complete lack of, light that filtered into the small room.

They quickly buttoned all their buttons, zipped the zippers, Vaughn feeling Sydney's hands dive into his coat pocket and depositing something before she opened the door to the hallway and sauntered out, blowing him a kiss and a wink as he quickly tried to adjust his belt and holster.

Feeling the lump against his side, his curiosity got the better of him until he heard her shout, "Don't look 'till you're on the plane. It's a surprise!" He sighed and brought his hand back down from its position above said pocket.

Two hours later, sitting with Eric on a stuffy CIA jet, he found himself pouring over papers of their mission.

"Dude, where did you go after tech op? You just disappeared," Eric asked without looking up from his reading, both of their jackets cast aside as they sat comfortably in their button up shirts.

"I went to say goodbye to Syd," he spoke cryptically.

"For twelve and a half minutes?" Again, there's no look on Eric's face, not even one of feigned ignorance.

"Wait, you timed us? I mean…me? Y-you timed me?" Vaughn finally broke the paper-work-stare-down to look up at his friend with a curious and annoyed gaze.

"Look, I've kept your little Zone 4 a secret, but if you and Syd keep leaving the messages up on your computer screens, all the wrong people are gonna start getting suspicious." Looking briefly over at his friend and fixing him with a small smirk, Weiss dipped back down into his paperwork, propping his head up with his hand.

Vaughn just let out a frustrated sigh, though a small smirk made his lips twitch as he thought back to the feeling of Sydney around him in their secret janitor's closet.

"I thought you'd made a pact never to have sex in a closet after what happened last time," Weiss' voice made him jump back into the present as he looked over at his friend with a large smile.

"That's why we renamed it 'Zone 4,'" Vaughn replied.

"Oh, like that makes a difference," Eric growled, and again their bickering was directed at the folders and files rather than at each other. The dim light flickered as the plane hit some turbulence, but evened out after a few seconds of small jaunts and jolts. "Was it good?"

"Was what good?" Vaughn asked, keeping a monotone voice to avoid further inquiry.

"C'mon, man, I live vicariously through you – you know that. Hell, if I was the one gettin' laid in a janitor's closet-"

"Zone 4," Vaughn interrupted.

"Whatever; I'd be shoutin' it so the world could hear."

"Yeah, well – fortunately for the world, you're not 'getting laid in a janitor's closet.'" Using the hand-quotes as punctuation, the friends mutually frowned at one another, Eric's set in a goofy death glare – possibly intent on mimicking Jack Bristow – and Vaughn's held a certain amount of humor behind his cocky smirk and raised eyebrows.

"So you're not gonna tell me anything?" Weiss whined, Vaughn's laugh echoing through the fuselage.

"It was sex with Sydney; how could it not be great? Happy now?"

"No," Eric growled, reaching out for another folder with a huff.

"You gonna throw a fit?" Michael questioned, his eyes scanning the page and flipping it, merely one more done out of an additional fifty in waiting.

"Maybe," Eric drew the word out.

"Oh s***!" Vaughn exclaimed, setting his pen down and rifling around through his trousers to locate something.

"What?" Eric asked, setting his things down, concern etched across his face.

"Donovan! I completely forgot to ask Syd if she'd feed him for me," he fumbled around some more before remembering that his phone was tucked away in his jacket. "Can you grab my phone for me? It's in the inside pocket of my jacket."

"Sure," Weiss turned, lifting Vaughn's coat as he stuck his hand into the pocket. A look of complete surprise crossed his face, a wide smile following as he felt rumpled silk against his fingertips.

"You sure your phone's in here?" he asked as Vaughn stood, searching through his pockets once more.

"It has to be, unless I left it sitting on my desk," he growled, seeing Eric pull a lacy pair of white and pink panties from his coat. Pure humiliation crossed his face as Weiss swayed them back and forth.

"Looks like someone kept a memento from his romp in the JC," Weiss smirked.

"Dammit, Weiss, give me those," he reached out, Eric jumping from the seat and taunting him from the middle of the aisle.

"Oooh, look-ee-here! I see London; I see France!"

"Have you two suddenly reverted back to elementary school?" Jack Bristow's booming voice filled the air as both men focused on the Senior Agent as he stood at the front of the plane. "I'll pretend I never saw those, _**Agent **_Vaughn, if you get them out of Mr. Weiss' hands immediately," he ordered before turning and making his way back to the closed off front of the plane.

"Damn you, Eric," Vaughn snarled, snatching the panties from Weiss's hands as his larger friend chuckled, handing Vaughn his cell phone and getting back to work.

"Don't blame me, man, it's Sydney's fault. At least it wasn't Jack that found 'em," he defended himself as Vaughn made his way to the back of the plane to call his aforementioned significant other.

After two rings she answered breathless. "Bristow."

"You know, I kinda wish you'd warned me about the panties in the pocket before I asked Weiss to find my cell phone," Vaughn's clearly disgruntled voice made her smile, despite his previous statement.

"Well, maybe you should have thought twice about accepting a two week mission to Russia," she deadpanned and leaned against a tree to catch her breath.

"Where are you?" though filled with static, his question came through.

"Just out for a run, you?" she asked, stretching her legs a bit to keep the muscles warm.

"Just got yelled at by your father for Eric flashing your pretty knickers off in the fuselage of the plane," he told her.

"Oh my God…did…did my dad-"

"Oh yeah, and he was mighty pissed. But I suppose it serves you right. Though I'm sure I'll be the one to get punished for your little sleight-of-hand. Anyway - getting off the subject of your father catching me with your panties in my coat pocket – I need to ask you a favor," he changed the subject.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Can you feed Donovan for me? He's my dog, and I kinda forgot about him in the rush to leave," he asked with a small smile on his face as Eric made kissy-faces at him as he knelt over the back of his chair. Flipping him off Vaughn turned away and ducked into the small lavatory, closing the door behind him.

She paused, a brilliant smile plastering her face. "Sure, but…Vaughn I don't have a key,"

"Well, this was gonna be a surprise, but in my drawer – toward the bottom – you'll see a little gift-wrapped box. Don't open the box," he ordered, his eyes narrowing. "Promise me you won't open it, it's your birthday present,"

"Good God, Vaughn, my birthday isn't for another month," she chastised, though butterflies danced through her stomach at the thought of Vaughn finding her gift early because he couldn't wait.

"Swear to me-"

"Vaughn, you're acting like a little kid," she laughed at him.

"Promise me, Syd," he said again.

"Okay; alright! I promise I won't look in the box!"

"Okay. Open up the card and inside you should find a key to my apartment. Which is half the surprise, but oh well. I kinda need my dog to be fed over the next two weeks," he grinned, hearing her soft laugh over the phone.

"Okay. What do I feed him and where is it?"

"It's in the kitchen, three cabinets to the left and under the sink. A can of the wet stuff then half a can of the dry stuff. Half a can only, I don't wanna come home to a fat dog," he grumbled, hearing Eric's muffled "A** h*le" from the other room.

"Promise. No fat dog, and no present peeking."

"Okay, I gotta go. I'll call you soon, okay?"

"Okay," she replied.

"Oh, and Sydney," he paused, knowing she was still there.

"Yeah?"

"Tonight your panties and I are gonna have a little interlude of our own, and I promise I'll be thinking of you when I jack off," he heard her intake of breath, knowing that ever since she'd found him pleasuring himself the night she'd come home early from a mission, it had been something that completely turned her on. "Just to let you know."

"You son of a-" Was all he heard as he hung up the phone with a chuckle, walking back to the table where Eric continued to mock him about the closet.

Sydney walked into Vaughn's apartment intent on looking through every book, magazine, and/or photo album to her satisfaction. She'd never been there before, but she felt as if she knew exactly where everything was because she knew **him**. Closing the door behind her she heard a low rumbled growl from the dark foyer.

"Oh s***," she mumbled, trying in vain to search out a light. "Vaughn, your dog better not be a man-eating pit bull or it's over," she muttered to herself, feeling a set of teeth bite into her bare calf. She yelped and jumped away before finding the light and flipping it on to show a small – and slightly overweight – bull dog glaring over at her, his little pointy teeth showing up behind his flappy lips.

"Donovan, I'm here to feed you!" she grumbled seeing a few little puncture points begin to dribble blood. "You hungry?"

His floppy ears perked up as much as they could, and he became an instant best friend to the young woman. She squatted down as he moved forward into her body, jumping up and licking at her face as she laughed and stood, moving into the kitchen.

Rummaging around and finding everything she needed to feed to Donovan, he stood in the kitchen gobbling up his dinner as she walked over to the impressive bookcase. He had almost everything she did in her reading arsenal and she smiled while touching several of the hard backed books she hadn't yet acquired.

Reaching the mantle over the faux fireplace, she started on the left and made her way picture by picture. Most of the people showed she didn't know, but she was pretty sure that one was him and his mother – he looked relatively the same so it had to be a recent one – and next to that with a small candle burning in front of it was a picture of William Vaughn. He was wearing his uniform, though that was the only professional air around him. In his arms was a smiling little boy that she guessed to be around six years old. His front top tooth was missing, leaving a large gap that was easy to spot.

His shining green eyes and tiny dimpled chin made Sydney smile sadly at the framed photo, knowing the outcome of that particular story. Moving on, she laughed aloud at a funny picture of Weiss and Vaughn in a fight on the ice. Eric had Vaughn pinned to the cold floor of the rink, his fist poised above the sandy blonde head as Michael reached out to stop him from pummeling him in the face.

Someone must have called out because Weiss had looked up from what he was doing in time to smile his patented goof-ball smile in the middle of his beat-down.

There was one serious picture of the two of them at what she assumed to be Langley, decked out in fine suits with a rigid posture, saluting the American flag.

Finally, at the end, she recognized her own smiling face and remembered when Vaughn had taken the picture. She'd been sitting at her desk all night working on something for Kendall – intel her mother had acquired – and since the large bald man figured that she was the best in the office to deal with anything that came from Irina Derevko's mouth, she was automatically tasked to the job.

Meaning she had to miss a dinner-date with Vaughn. She'd called to let him know, as well as apologize, and heard the disappointment in his voice when he reassured her that they'd fid some other time to have a real date. He'd shown up two hours later with a small rose, finding her at her desk rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The moment he'd called her name she'd smiled and turned to look over at him, her chin propped up in her hand.

The flash went off and he snapped the picture with a grin before handing her the rose and kissing her forehead, sneakily setting a sandwich in front of her.

_" I just figured that we could have our date here," he explained._

She smiled at the memory and moved on, seeing Donovan finished with his dinner and lying in the middle of the linoleum floor on his back, his legs spread out and his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

'I wonder where his room is,' she thought quickly, and small smile forming at her lips. Walking down the hallway she found it easily. The large, king-sized bed was in the middle of the room, and though it wasn't anything fancy or even what you could call stylish, his room – in addition to his entire apartment – was completely Vaughn. Everything he had in the relatively large space accented his personality to a tee, and she decided that even if she was given the chance she wouldn't change a thing.

She snooped around a bit before sitting on the edge of the large bed as her phone rang from her pocket.

***Vaughn***

The name blinked at her and she smiled, pushing the call button.

"Your stupid dog bit me," she answered instead of her usual hello.

"He did? Well, that's not like him. What did you do, kick him?" Vaughn asked with a chuckle, though concern was evident in his voice.

"Nope. Just walked in and heard him growl," the muttered, falling back onto the soft bed beneath her. "Bit my leg before I turned the light on. I mentioned food, however, and suddenly we're best friends."

"Well, you'll live. Where are you now?" he questioned, stretching out on one of the extended chairs in the plane, Weiss' snoring echoing off of the walls.

"I'm still at your place. I snooped around a bit, hope you don't mind," she told him casually.

"Nah. Find anything interesting?"

"Nah," she copied, standing and making her way from his room back out to the living area, Donovan still sprawled out on the floor. "I don't know what you were worried about, anyway."

"What do you mean?" he frowned, closing his eyes as the wrinkles popped out on his forehead.

"He's already fat. I don't think me overfeeding him will make have much of an impact," she laughed.

"Ha, ha, very funny. You have any plans tonight?"

"Nope. Just by myself, all alone in my apartment," she left off suggestively, an idea forming in her head. "As lame as it is I'll probably just go home and go to bed."

"Well, I'll let you go. I need to find some ear plugs or figure out some way to make Weiss' snoring stop," Vaughn grumbled, looking over at his friend as he reclined in his seat, his mouth hanging open permitting the abrasive grunts and snorts to leave between his lips.

"Okay. Be safe and call me when you land," she smiled into the phone, even though he couldn't see it.

"Promise." He clicked the end button, snuggling deeper into the leather cushions to try and find some rest, settling his phone on his chest in case she called him before drifting to sleep.

Sydney hung up the phone with a sly smile while moving back around the end of the couch, reaching his bedroom in a matter of seconds. Moving toward the digital camera she'd seen sitting on his desk, she set it up on the edge, pointing toward the bed. Tilting the small screen up, she smiled wide when the perfect angle appeared. Setting the camera to take a picture every ten seconds, she readied it and then moved around to sit on the bed.

"Jack to this, big guy," she grinned, the first flash going off as her fingers began to lift up the hem of her t-shirt.

Vaughn awoke groggily at a vibrating sensation on his chest and looked down at his phone reproachfully. It wasn't a ring, merely a text message, and he opened it slowly in an effort to force his brain to remember which buttons to push.

- Your bed is comfy. -

Was all it said, and the name above the text was Sydney's. A surge of excitement went straight from his heart to his cock as he re-read the words carefully.

'She's in my bed. She's _sleeping _in my bed,' he thought to himself as he broke into a full-on grin.

Sitting up completely, he fumbled around for a few minutes trying to send a message back.

- Wht r u doing in my bed -

Not the best grammar or punctuation, but he didn't care. The only tangible thought going through his head was, 'Is she naked?' His phone buzzed back, her message coming up with a quick push of the button.

- Resting -

"Well that's cryptic," he whispered to himself, keeping his voice low to keep from waking Weiss.

- I thot u were going home -

A few seconds passed before she answered back.

- Your bed seemed comfyr -

- Bad grammr frm the Eng major -

- Bite me -

- ok -

After a long interlude in their texting conversation, her message showed up.

- I'm gonna go. Do you have wireless internet up there? -

- think so. Y -

- You should check your email -

- k. Syd u can sty there if u want -

- I know. Nite -

- nite -

Vaughn stood after pocketing his cell phone, apprehension and bit of excitement filling him as he walked over to the table where the laptop sat and grabbed it quickly. Sneaking it back to his seat he opened the lid quickly. After three desperate attempts at typing in the correct password, he managed to get to the main screen.

"Wait…which one?" he wondered aloud, grabbing his cell from his pocket and leaving her a quick message.

- whch 1 -

Vaughn waited for a couple minutes, thinking that maybe she'd turned off her phone and slipped back into his bed for a night of rest. He could check both, but the security of checking his work e-mail was a pain to get past.

- ours -

He grinned, connecting the wireless internet and typing in the address to Yahoo!™.

A few seconds later, **Boy_** logged in and read the wonderful note that said **You have 2 new messages**.

Opening the mailbox quickly, he clicked on the first one, noticing that the second had several large attachments.

**-Message from ****BoyScouts_**** reads: -**

_Sweet dreams, Vaughn.  
Love, Syd_

That was the entire message. Deleting it quickly, he opened the next and clicked attachment 1 of 20. 'Damn, what the hell are you up to, Syd,' he wondered as the picture loaded on his screen.

It was just an ordinary picture of her, sitting on the edge of his bed with a small smile, wearing his favorite green t-shirt. She'd asked him once why it was his favorite, and he merely replied that it wasn't long enough and he enjoyed the sight of her belly button playing peek-a-boo with him.

She was in a pair of khaki shorts that fell a little above the middle of the thighs, though the way she was sitting on the bed forced the material up a bit higher. It was a cute picture but he briefly wondered what else she had in store for him.

Opening the next picture, it showed her lifting her shirt up, her entire stomach being shown. He'd already studied each defined abdominal muscle, but that didn't mean that his hands weren't itching to fondle the screen in front of him. His plane ride just got a whole lot more interesting.

Finally, in the fifth picture, she was perched on the edge of his bed in nothing but her shorts, her fingers massaging her breasts lightly, the dark nipples sticking out from between her pointer and middle fingers. The tightness against his zipper was almost unbearable, but he knew he couldn't just whip it out in the middle of the flight.

'Think of what Weiss would say. Or worse – Jack Bristow. He'd shoot me in the face,' Vaughn thought, his hand periodically slipping down to rub at the bulge in his trousers, moving to the next picture.

Number eight was interesting. Striking a pose that she had to have learned from a mission in a strip club, her fingers had moved from her breasts to her stomach, then finally to the waistband of her shorts.

Number eight: The top button.

Number nine: The zipper.

Number ten: the shorts around her ankles.

No panties. None. His cock twitched, begging to be set free as he looked over at his discarded coat where he knew her panties were safely tucked away before turning back to the screen.

It was then that he came across page eleven - his favorite so far. A completely naked Sydney Bristow lounging on his bed. The angle of the camera had changed a little bit and the zoom had definitely been used. He could still see his comforter of course, but there was unquestionably more skin than cloth in the shot. It was very erotic.

Leaving that window open he clicked on the next picture, his heart slamming to a near stop against his rib cage and his trousers become slightly moist with a sudden spurt of liquid from the tip of his erection into the soft yet tight material of his pants.

Sydney had repositioned herself with her back against his headboard, one leg lying flat on the bed and the other pulled up with her heel resting against her backside, her knee jutting up to lean alongside her arm. As much as he enjoyed her legs, they weren't entirely what his eyes had been drawn to. While one hand was occupied with her breasts, paying close attention to her taut, perky nipples, the other had meandered down toward her soft, exposed mound.

Her first and ring finger had spread her outer lips apart, showing the camera the pink interior of her c*nt.

Flipping quickly to the next picture, she was much in the same position except that her eyes were closed, and her sweet pouted lips were in a tight circle, and her two first fingers were obviously massaging her clit.

"Oh, God-" he groaned as he opened the next and saw her fingers glistening in the dim light of his bedroom from the pooling wetness between her legs.

"Vaughn? You okay?" Weiss' voice broke through the haze that was his mind. Closing the pictures and quickly slamming the lid to the laptop closed, he stood abruptly and jogged for the bathroom.

"Eric, you open that up and I'll kill you," he growled with a turn, catching a curious Weiss making his way over to where he'd been sitting before. His friend held up his hands in defense, backing up to where he'd been seated and flopped down into his recently abandoned chair as Vaughn closed and locked the door of the restroom.

His hands immediately went to his tented dress pants to relieve the pressure building up in his lower half. Yanking the zipper down - ignoring button and belt - his erection popped out from the new opening to slap against his stomach. Hastily grabbing the shaft in one hand, the other reaching down to squeeze at his taut balls, Vaughn began the age-old pumping rhythm.

His hips bucked up to meet his hand, and a solid yank down mixed with a pinch to his sensitive tip made his orgasm explode; biting his tongue to hold in his groan. It wasn't until he calmed his breathing down and found his heartbeat before opening his eyes and realizing that he'd made a complete mess of the sink, the wall, and the mirror in front of him.

"Damn it," he growled, grabbing a hunk of toilet paper and cleaning off his hands and wilting member. After shoving himself back into his still moist trousers, he set off with a paper towel and cleaned up the aftermath of Sydney's e-mailing session.

'You're gonna get it, Syd. You don't even know how much you're gonna get it,' he thought before running the sink and splashing some cold water onto his lap, letting out a loud curse before walking from the restroom.

"Watch out, that sink will get ya," he grumbled, using a fresh towel to try and dry his pants.

"Yeah, I can see that." Weiss grinned, leaning back against the headrest as Vaughn reopened the laptop and closed everything, making sure to leave Sydney's revealing e-mail in the saved folder and shutting everything down.

"By the way," Eric grumbled from his half-asleep position on the other side of the plane.

"What?" Vaughn grunted, more of a statement as he settled back onto the long couch.

"I didn't know Syd was that naughty."

"Jackass!" Vaughn snarled, jumping from his seat and tackling his friend in his chair, Eric's mocking laughter filling the air as they continued the flight toward the longest two weeks of Michael Vaughn's life.

A/N: HA HA HA! I had such a blast writing that! It was so much fun!

-Jean


	5. Chapter 5: Surprise Surprise

**Chapter 5: Surprise Surprise**

"You know, don't you?"

"Sydney…I'm a spy, too. You'll have to torture me for the information," he explained.

"Weiss, please?"

"Oh, no, don't you pull the puppy dog eyes. I've told you too much already-"

"You haven't told me anything!" Sydney stomped her heel into the floor as she glared pointedly at her friend, lowering her voice as she noticed the glances of several onlookers.

"No. Mike said he'd shoot me in the balls if I gave away the surprise, and I would like to one day bear offspring."

"You have to find a girl first," she smirked at him mischievously.

Eric laughed, a frown of mock hurt clouding his goofy features as he mouthed 'no' once more before grabbing his file and moving away from the frustrated female.

She sighed, stuffing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. It was her day off and here she was at work trying desperately to get Weiss to disclose the information contained in a soft velvet box wrapped in shining purple paper – said item lodged deep in the back of Vaughn's drawer.

The only reason she knew it was a velvet box is because she'd undone one end of the package and peeked. But soon, guilt had assailed her and she'd resisted the urge to open it the rest of the way.

"Hey," Vaughn's voice broke her deep concentration as he stood in front of her, his hand waving gently in front of her face before tapping the end of her nose with his index finger. "Whatcha thinkin' about? And what are you doing here? Don't you have the day off?"

"Yeah, but I had to talk to Eric."

"'Bout what?" Vaughn's eye narrowed as he looked around for his friend, not seeing the larger agent in the immediate vicinity.

"Nuthin'," she grinned. "I'll see you at home," she winked and walked away from his curious and somewhat cynical glare.

She laughed to herself, determined to locate the birthday present and break her promise not to peek. Fingering the key to his apartment as it hung from the ignition, she turned toward his home rather than her own.

She circled the block until finally locating a spot and pulling into it quickly. She greeted Vaughn's neighbor, the fifteen-year-old boy's friend blatantly checking her out until his pal's hand punched him in the side.

"C'mon, she's hot!"

"No, that's Miss Sydney. She's not eye candy; she's real nice," he smiled as she winked, patting their heads before walking by.

"Whatever man, I'm looking 'cuz she's fine!" the teenager exclaimed.

She held in her laughter and refrained from looking back, even when another smack filled the air, before skipping the elevator and jogging up the stairs.

The fourth floor - apartment seven - she grabbed her key out and unlocked it, the scampering, clawed feet of the fat bulldog making her smile and crouch down to greet the pint sized protector with a laugh. His tongue smothered her face in one giant slurp as he jumped up into her lap with his front paws perched on her thighs, his stub of a tail wiggled vigorously.

"Easy, Donnie, hop down," she ordered the mutt, his compliance only lasting until she crouched down underneath the sink to locate his stockpile of food. Nearly knocking her over with his excitement, he left a slobbery trail up her bare arm before running over and grabbing his dish, his jowls flopping on either side as he bounced back and forth between his right and left front feet.

She fed him quickly, staring over at the bedroom and having a quick debate with herself.

"It's only two days," she mumbled, settling down into the couch and grabbing the nearest thing to occupy her time with: a hockey magazine. "I can wait two more days," she said in a manner most convincing.

Unfortunately – to herself – it wasn't convincing at all, and with a huff she jumped up and made her way quickly to the bedroom.

Marching straight up to the bureau, her hands froze millimeters from the indents that served as makeshift handles.

"I'm a freakin' CIA-agent turned excited-five-year-old at Christmas time," she growled, flopping back onto his soft bed. She smiled lightly, eyes closing for a moment as she remembered back to the last time she'd been in this very bed, doing very naughty things.

Since then, Vaughn had returned the favor in full, and thus began their little war with one another. Object of the game: to see who could best whom. As of that particular moment, she was well into the lead. And she was definitely looking forward to the next rematch.

Heaving a sigh and rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes, she sat up and glared over at the chest of drawers.

"Oh…what the hell. I'll act surprised," she mumbled while rising, opening the middle drawer up and reaching into the back. The envelope was still there - though the key had been removed - but unfortunately, the one thing that was missing was the sleek feeling of wrapping paper against her fingertips.

Pulling the drawer out farther, she found the already opened envelope, but that wasn't anything new. What was new, however, was the missing gift.

"Looking for something?" She stilled quickly knowing that even with her best spy attributes put into high gear, there wasn't a chance in hell that she'd be able to talk her way out of this one.

She whipped around to see Vaughn leaning against the doorframe - his jacket removed and his holster squeezing his white button-up shirt against his shoulders. The amused smirk on his face let her know that he'd been there for a while, content to watch her search in vain for the missing present.

"No…why do you ask?"

"Well," he grinned, pushing off of the frame and sliding his hands into his trouser pockets, he moved closer to where she was standing, each step echoing off of the carpeted floor. "No reason, unless you've got an unnatural fascination with my boxers and socks."

Sure enough, her hands were still buried in his drawer, but she'd only just noticed that it was his underwear drawer. With a sigh, she pulled back as he reached out, closing it with the tips of his fingers, his eyes never leaving her guilty blushing face.

"I wasn't gonna-"

"Yes, you were," he countered with a grin, seeing the glare she tossed him before moving his hands behind his back, his fingers clasping together as he waited patiently for her to attempt to get out of the hole she'd just dug.

"Okay, maybe I was. But you've effectively prevented me from peeking, so victory is yours," she grumbled, walking past him and back out into the hallway, Donovan looking up from his spot on the kitchen floor.

"Well, go me," he cheered, seeing the annoyed look tossed over he shoulder. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the circle of his arms, his mouth latching over hers as she squeaked in surprise, Donovan's growl went unheeded until the bulldog sunk his pointy little teeth into Vaughn's lower calf.

"Ow!" They snapped apart, their mouths smacking as Michael jumped back, glaring down at the little tank that was his dog.

Donovan stood protectively in front of Sydney, his flappy lips snarling as she laughed from behind her guardian dog.

"I'm your master, you mutt," Vaughn growled, reaching a hand out to Sydney once more, the dog growling when he got too close.

After playing a game with the over-protective pooch, Sydney crouched down and began scrubbing behind the wary dog's ears.

"Aren't you my little watch-dog? Yes, you are," she cooed, taking plenty of slobbering kisses from the animal as he melted, jumping up and down, Vaughn glaring at the both of them.

The ringing of his cell phone made him search out his jacket as Sydney sat cross-legged on his floor, Donovan rolling onto his back so she could rub his potbelly.

"Vaughn," he grumbled, taking a moment to examine the bite on his leg as Weiss' voice echoed through his earpiece.

"Kendall sanctioned the "mission", and I did do the little air quotes on the word mission," he clarified, Vaughn trying desperately to hide his smirk, though his dog and his girlfriend were more interested on one another than the conversation he was having.

"What? Now? Yeah, Syd's here, why?" he started up the conversation, Sydney looking up from her spot on the floor.

"Bet you two are all cozy in bed, huh?" Weiss egged his friend on, hearing Vaughn's pretend sigh as he tried not to comment at his friend's statement.

"I'll let her know."

"Is she naked?"

"Weiss…" Vaughn's warning made Sydney frown with a curious grin. "No, I'm not gonna agree, her birthday's in a couple days-"

"Or is she wearing one of those lingerie thingies like on the plane with the scummy French dude?"

"Yeah, I promise…she'll be there soon." Without another word he snapped his phone closed and looked over as Sydney stood up with a final pat to the fat dog's stomach.

"What's up? Why didn't Weiss just call me if he wanted to ask me something?"

"He said he tried; where's your cell?" he asked, the small lie worth it in the grand scheme of things.

She patted her back pocket, remembering quickly that it was in her purse on the front seat of her car. "It's in the car. Whoops," she tucked a stray hand behind her ear before looking back up at him. "What did my birthday have to do with any of the little conversation?"

"Weiss had this contact in Paris that was looking into something Rambaldi related, and it turns out he's coming through with his end of the deal. Kendall approved an op. that you and Weiss are both on. I tried to get him to wait until after your birthday, but hopefully you'll be back in time,"

"Damn," she growled, lacing her arms around his neck, her nose rubbing against his playfully. "I guess I'll just have to wait to see my present after all," she grinned, her tongue tracing his lips before he sucked it inside, their mouths melding together.

She was the first to pull back, large smile gracing her swollen lips as she untangled herself from his clinging hands.

"You'll have to wait until I get back for the rest," she grinned, stepping out of his arms and out through the front door, Donovan following until the barrier between him and the hallway stopped him.

With a whine, he settled himself in front of the closed door, looking back at Vaughn with such a sad _expression that he almost felt bad for the dog. Almost -- if the teeth marks in his calf weren't still tingling with a reminder that his pet wasn't actually his pet anymore.

"Whatever, you traitor," he grumbled, flipping on his phone and calling Marshall. "Hey, Marshall, it's Vaughn. Syd bought it and she's on her way in."

"Oh, great! Well, I'm pretty much ready here with Weiss…and, you know, assuming everything goes okay, I mean – she is a spy, what if she figures it out?" he stuttered, Vaughn smiling through the phone.

"Marshall, as long as you just stutter and act like yourself, Syd's not gonna have a clue."

She sighed, flipping over another card and finding it to be a jack of spades. Boom baby, there's a flush. But years of practice trained her to keep a stoic façade as she peered over her hand at the other agent. Weiss –being a complete goofball – surprisingly wasn't inept at keeping a straight face.

"All right, show me whatchu got," he ordered, trying to coax her into revealing her cards first.

"Oh, no, I dealt. That means that you get to show me the goods," she retorted.

"Bet that's not the first time you've said that," he wiggled his eyebrows, desperate to hide his pair of twos from the woman across from him.

"Weiss…" she warned, flashing her eyes as she took a swig from her water bottle.

"What? I'm just sayin'; it just clicked in my mind at how you and Vaughn were able to play poker 'consistently' during a sixteen-hour flight," his fingers accentuated the quoted word as he saw a small blush tint the upper part of her cheeks.

"Oh man, c'mon! I was just messin' around; you're not tellin' me that…ewww," he grumbled, tossing his cards down onto the table as she laughed.

"Does this mean I should just collect the pot right now? Add it to my ever growing stockpile of goodies?" she asked, her hands encompassing the medium sized pile of fun-size chocolate bars and jellybeans.

"Fine, take it," Eric growled, Sydney grabbing a Snickers™ and tossing it over to him. "Yes! I deserve it after having to put up with the constant flirting, the sexual innuendos, et cetera," he growled, unwrapping his prize and stuffing it into his mouth.

"Well, I'm gonna go get ready, we'll land in about twenty minutes anyway. Think you can clean up on your own?"

"Yeah," he smiled up at her as she retreated to the back part of the cabin, a small sheet set up between them for privacy on one end.

"Okay, so what exactly am I looking for again? I tried to listen to Marshall, but he was a bit more 'stuttery' than usual," she called, sliding out of her work pants and pulling the dress from the dress-bag.

Surprisingly, it was a classy gown and not a tramp-like skimpy piece of cloth that showed far more than she was ever comfortable with showing. The gown was black, the material tight from her torso to her stomach complete with a string in the back to connect the two straps underneath her shoulder blades before meeting in a dipping 'V' at the small of her back. The flowing fabric would probably touch the top of her feet, and though it was quite beautiful, she wasn't looking forward to running down yet another hallway in heels.

Laying it out on a chair, she proceeded to slide into the thigh-high-hose one at a time before pulling the dress over her head.

"You know, for an alias, this isn't such a bad dress. It might just find its way into my minimal collection of outfits I've failed to return from these missions," she smiled, hearing Weiss laugh behind the curtain.

"You mean you don't look like a woman that would be willing to sleep with me?" He knew full well what the dress looked like and had only imagined how perfectly Sydney would wear it.

"Weiss, despite the outfits, I don't believe I'd ever be a woman willing to sleep with you. It'd be like sleeping with my brother," she shuddered, tossing open the curtain and seeing him flipping through the mission folder. "Tie me?" She asked, smoothing the dress down in front lightly.

He stood as she turned her back to him, holding her hair up to avoid it getting tangled up with the bow Eric was intent on tying.

"You look really pretty," he smiled as she walked back to the other half of the plane to do her makeup.

"So all I have to do it show up at the restaurant, find the target, flirt a little bit and grab his key-card, right?"

"Pretty much, it's kind of a snatch and grab sort of thing." He kept the smile from his face as she stuck her head out of the small bathroom in the middle of washing her face with a warm, wet cloth.

"And why am I going in alone? Wouldn't it be a bit more believable if I were going in with a significant other?" she questioned with a small frown, returning to her position in front of the sink to dry her face and begin the journey with her makeup.

"Well, you can't very well show up with some guy and then excuse yourself to flirt with Mr. Rocco, can you?"

"Touché," she agreed, finishing up with her eyes, a dark line on both lower and upper lids, though the upper curled up near the temple to make her lashes look even longer than usual. Moving on to her cheeks, she applied a minimal touch of blush to merely make her color vary. If the dress was classy, her makeup was going to match.

"How should I do my hair?" she asked, mostly to herself, as she ran a small brush through the soft chestnut strands.

Weiss was prepared for this one as well, per Vaughn's orders.

"Can you curl it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice nonchalant.

"Yeah, why? You giving me fashion advice, Agent Weiss?" she asked with a curious grin, seeing him focus intently on putting the playing cards back into the package.

"Well…I mean…you look nice with curly hair. Maybe curly and put it up in a bun or something. I don't know, it's your head," he grumbled, reciting perfectly what Vaughn had requested her hair look like.

"Well, if you think so." She plugged in the travel-sized curling iron and waited patiently for it to heat up.

Once the hair was finished and in the process of being pinned to the top of her head, a few unruly curls falling in wisps about her shoulders and along the side of her face, the captain announced that the plane was beginning its descent to the airport.

"Come and sit down," Eric called, seeing her step around the curtain looking completely stunning.

"Man, if only Vaughn would be able to see you tonight, you'd totally be getting' laid," he winked, Sydney rolling her eyes in mock annoyance at his crude comment.

"Well, hopefully we'll be back in L.A. in time for me to at least celebrate with him for a couple hours."

"I think you'll get your 'together time' in, Syd, trust me," he winked as they landed in Paris, the light of the city shining around them.

"Okay, your only clue for this guy is gonna be a green fountain pen sitting on the edge of the table; table thirteen. It's located here," Weiss set the small map on her lap as they pulled to the curb of the restaurant and Sydney prepared to exit the vehicle.

"Gotcha. Thanks, Weiss," she smiled, kissing him on the cheek and stepping out as the valet took her hand, blatantly checking her out at he asked her in polite French if she was meeting someone or was intending to wait for her company to arrive.

"Non, merci, mon ami est déjà arrivé." Smiling, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles and moved on to attend to the next car pulling up as Weiss' limo disappeared around the corner. (No, thank you, my friend has already arrived.)

Flipping on her earpiece, she heard him ask for some tasty crepes, but decided against answering. Agent-trained eyes scanned the dining area, seeing table thirteen and the green fountain pen quickly. Looking down and smoothing out her dress, she began to see that very few people were seated around that particular table.

"I wonder if he's planning on meeting anyone else tonight," she spoke quietly to herself.

"Why do you say that?" though filled with static, Sydney was able to discern Weiss' concerned voice through the din of the large restaurant.

"Because every table around his is empty. Coincidence?"

"I think not," Eric finished with a laugh. "Have you seen the target yet?"

"No, I didn't want to look too suspicious, you know? Can't very well walk in and notice him immediately," she muttered into her comm.

"Okay, going radio silent for a minute. Got a phone call," Eric mumbled, switching off his comm as he flipped open his phone, calling Vaughn.

"What the hell is she doing?" his friend's voice asked as Eric heard the commotion of the bistro over the phone.

"C'mon, man, she thinks it's a mission and is therefore in professional mode. Should we send in Dixon?"

"Might as well," Vaughn growled before hanging up and pocketing his phone, delighted to stare at Sydney's beautiful frame in the dress he'd chosen. Her current position provided him a long look at her toned back due to the dipping material of the dress, as well as her taut middle and shoulders.

Weiss grumbled before making himself comfortable in the back seat of the limo as the driver rolled the small window down.

"Is there a problem, Agent Weiss?"

"No, there isn't Agent Bristow. She's in complete spy mode so we're sending in Dixon."

Without another word Jack rolled the window back up and tipped the chauffer hat back down over his eyes with an annoyed sigh.

"You're on, Dixon, she's still not biting yet. Keep in mind that once you move in, you'll probably blow the secret so just show her where Vaughn is sitting. Lemme know how it goes."

"Sure thing," Dixon's voice cut out as he hung up, Weiss propping his legs up on the bench seat.

"Pardonnez-moi ma'am, est-ce que mais je peux vous aider à localiser votre partie ? Peut-être trouvez une table si vous seul dinez ?" (Pardon me ma'am, but can I help you locate your party? Perhaps find a table if you're dining alone?)

Sydney's head whipped around, her wide eyes focusing on the deep color of Marcus' face.

"What…wait, what are you doing here?" she growled in a harsh whisper, but he merely smiled and extended his arm to her, waiting patiently for her to comply.

"Ici, laissez-moi vous escorter à votre table." His smile was reassuring so she slipped her arm through his and briefly looked up to the table she was – eventually – supposed to infiltrate in order to find the key-card. (Here, let me escort you to your table.)

Instead of an unknown face smiling up at her, Vaughn's shining eyes and deep smile made her look questioningly up at Dixon.

"Happy birthday, mademoiselle," he winked, leaving the two standing alone in front of the table.

"Wanna fill me in?" she asked, an incredulous frown on her face, though her eyes shone with happiness and unrestrained curiosity.

"Well, originally I'd asked Kendall to give us the weekend off to celebrate your birthday, but when he denied my request the fourth time I went around him to your father."

"My father?!" she squeaked as he moved around behind her, just close enough for her to feel his presence but not touch him. Pulling out her chair and guiding her into it, he pushed it in before claiming his own seat.

Sure enough, on the table sat the green fountain pen.

"Yeah. Surprisingly he did not try to shoot me, and he agreed to help. We set up a dummy mission for Kendall, and he okayed Weiss, you and me on point with Dixon and Jack as backup," her boyfriend explained, seeing the stunned look beginning to dissipate.

"My dad? You and my dad orchestrated this whole thing?"

"Yep."

"All of it?" she sat with her hands flopping in her lap as she searched for confirmation that her father had set up a weekend alone for his daughter and her lover – a man who hadn't really earned Jack Bristow's blessing yet.

"Yep. He was your limo driver, I might add," Vaughn reached out and waited for her to slide her hand into his larger, waiting palm. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are tonight?"

With a blush she looked down, her free fingers toying with the frayed hem of the cloth napkin before looking up and taking in his attire for the first time that evening. The black material of his pants and jacket matched her dress perfectly, the black going together so well, but the almost blue-silver undershirt that stuck out around the collar – as well as his tie – was complimentary to the shining wisps at the front of her dress.

"So you actually went and picked out two matching outfits for tonight?"

"Yeah, well, Weiss helped."

"That's a surprise," she laughed as a young waiter appeared with two large menus in hand.

The waiter approached their table, Sydney's stomach already growling at the aroma wafting from the kitchen.

"Your food will arrive momentarily. Would you like me to bring out your wine?" His polite French words swirled around as Sydney fixed Vaughn with yet another surprised stare.

"Yes, please – thank you very much."

"Michael, I can't believe you did all of this," she sighed, a happy smile gracing her lips as he leaned across the small, intimate table to take her fingers into his hand.

"Happy birthday, Syd," he replied, pulling away for a moment to scoot his chair around closer to her own, his lips placing a gentle, soft kiss against her mouth as the food was ferried out along with a bottle of wine.

The meal was delicious, Sydney cleaning her plate as Vaughn watched her with shining green eyes.

"What's on your mind? You seem pretty far away," she asked quietly, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his temple. His cheeks blushed a light pink as he looked over at her with a small smile before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the infamous present, complete with re-taped purple wrapping paper.

With a grin, she opened the end and slid out the velvet box, setting aside the paper, stopping with a pause before opening the box.

"What's wrong? You've been dieing to know what's inside for a month," his mouth was set in that perfect little grin, and she couldn't help but reach out and trace the dimple on his chin before cracking open the box, the shining glint of a ring making her close it quickly, her eyes whipping up to his.

"It's not what you think it is; c'mon, baby, open it," he urged, seeing the sudden panic in her _mocha orbs as she flipped the lid once more.

The beautiful, white gold band was crisscrossed in the front with the top section housing three small diamonds.

"Oh my…Vaughn…this is," she stuttered, merely content to stare at the ring as he chuckled beside her, reaching out and taking it from her shaking hands.

"It's not an engagement ring – not yet anyway – but it is a promise ring." His words flowed around her, her eyes watching his every move as he pulled the item from its case and looked up at her.

"Right or left?"

"Huh?" Sydney's voice was quick as she looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"I had it made for your ring finger, but which hand do you want it on?"

"Ummm…the left," she smiled, holding it out as he slid it onto her finger before bringing the back of her hand up to his lips.

"Some day, Syd," he swore.

"Yeah, some day." With a sigh she leaned forward, cupping the back of his head and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. What was meant to be light and nothing more than a caress turned into a smoldering mesh of lips and tongues, each trying desperately to drink the other in.

A discreet cough pulled them both apart as Vaughn looked up to face a smirking Dixon decked out in the restaurants mandatory outfit.

"Your bill, sir, complimentary of the Central Intelligence Agency. Please sign here," his voice was merely a whisper, though to the untrained eye it merely looked like Vaughn was indeed signing off for his meal.

"Thank you, have a lovely evening," handing him the receipt as well as a hidden card underneath, he turned and walked away before Michael could question the lingering item.

"What's that?" Syd asked, finishing the last sip of wine and pressing her napkin to her lips as she took the card from his hands and flipped it over. "To Syd and Mike, you owe me beer and hockey tickets. Love, Weiss." There's an address here for the hotel," she grinned, meeting his eyes over the rectangle piece of plastic.

"Well, let's go see what our room looks like," Vaughn stood, smoothing out his jacket before helping her from her seat and making their way out of the restaurant.

A limo was waiting for them both, and they saw Jack's usual steely face in the front.

"Damn, I guess this means that I can't make out with you on the way, doesn't it," he grumbled into her ear, his hand at the small of her back and guiding her into the large seat as the small window rolled down between the two sections.

"Yes, it does Agent Vaughn." Jack stated frankly, though a small hint of a smile graced his mouth when he looked at how happy Sydney appeared to be.

For the first few moments of the ride, Vaughn stuck to his side of the limo even though his hands ached to touch the beautiful woman beside him. It wasn't until her hand gently pushed on his bouncing knee that he stopped fidgeting and turn to look at her.

"Thank you for everything tonight, Vaughn. The restaurant, the dinner, the ring – all of it. Definitely a birthday I won't forget," she cupped his cheek, leaning in and setting a kiss to his cheek before tucking her hand between his as the limo slowed to a stop in front of the gigantic hotel. Jack turned, looking through the small window as the two younger agents focused on the senior officer before them.

"You're checking in under the names Sydney and Michael Macheau, visiting from northern France. You're here for two nights and you fly back day after tomorrow."

"Dad – thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me, truly," she smiled, moving over to the window, kissing her fingertip and pressing it into his cheek before exiting the vehicle and grabbing onto Vaughn's arm.

The hotel was massive and ornate, large stairways and hanging chandeliers making the couple gape at the elegant décor until they made it to the front desk. A smiling young woman greeted them in the beautiful language, and as soon as they signed off on the suite they made their way over to the elevator, catching it right as the doors opened and a few people streamed out.

With his hand at the small of her back, Sydney and Michael entered the gold-paneled, box-like room and pushed the small round button that said 40.

"This has been an incredible night," Sydney sighed, looking over at him as he wedged his hands into his pockets, rocking onto the back of his heels, regarding her with his patented crooked grin.

"You deserve it. I mean…if I could do this every night…" he left off seeing the bright shine in her eyes and the dimples raging on her cheeks. "C'mere," he muttered, his hands moving from his pockets to her waist as he pulled her gently against him.

"Happy birthday, baby," he whispered before kissing her, his lips merely caressing hers as she sighed, her mouth opening slightly under his soft teasing. The kiss progressed slowly, their first few touches something soft until a burning excitement seemed to pour through her veins.

Her hands that were once stationary on his shoulders moved north until her fingers dove into his hair, simultaneously pushing his mouth hard against her own. His tongue sought entrance and she quickly acquiesced, her breath intermingling with his between their suctioning lips.

He pulled away with a smack, a small strand of saliva connecting their lips until his head moved along her jaw, stopping to bite at her earlobe as she clung to his back. His mouth suctioned over her racing pulse point as he leaned forward, forcing her to almost go limp in his embrace as she bent backward against his strong arms.

All too soon the elevator came to a stop with a ding, Vaughn reluctantly pulling away from her now bright read neck as the doors opened to reveal yet another lobby - though much smaller than the main floor's - and an anxious bell-boy waiting with a large suitcase.

"Monsieur Vaughn?" he asked, a small squeak in his voice.

"Oui," Michael stated with a small frown, eyes scanning the lobby quickly before looking back down at the boy.

"Monsieur Jack tells me to…ummm…help you to get to…uh," he muttered, trying desperately to speak in the foreign English tongue.

"C'est tout exact, J'ai grandi en France. Dites-maintenant moi, Jack vous a envoyé?" (It's all right, I grew up in France. Now tell me, Jack sent you?)

"Oui, monsieur! Il m'a demandé de vous montrer à votre pièce et de vous donner votre sac, puisque vous étiez non préparé. C'est tout qu'il me dirait monsieur, Je jure!," (He asked me to show you to your room and give you your bag, since you were unprepared. That is all he would tell me sir, I swear!)

Vaughn gave him a genuine smile, Sydney doing the same as they stepped fully out of the elevator and followed the talkative young man down the hallway toward their room.

"Vous semblez terriblement jeune travailler ici," Sydney stated as he took the card from her hand and slid it into its respective slot, the door beeping three times as the small LED flashed from red to green. (You seem awfully young to be working here.)

"Mon père et mère étaient de bons amis avec votre famille, Mlle. Bristow. Quand Jack a demandé notre aide en vous obtenant cette pièce, mon père a parlé à plusieurs personnes pour le faire se produire. Appréciez votre sejour ! Si vous avez besoin de n'importe quoi, le nombre de mon père est sur le bureau," with a small, curt bow he scampered from the room, leaving the couple standing in the doorway. (My father and mother were good friends with your family, Miss Bristow. When Jack asked for our help in getting you this room, my father talked to several people to make it happen. Enjoy your stay! If you need anything, my father's number is on the desk,)

"Wow, look at this room!" Sydney exclaimed as she waltzed in, Vaughn closing the door quickly behind them.

The giant suite was probably the most luxurious hotel room they'd ever stayed in (and they'd stayed in a lot of hotel rooms, for both business and personal reasons). Large double doors opened to a balcony overlooking the sprawled city, and a soft breeze ruffled the floor-length curtains showing that the doors were open. The 'living area' of the room was to the left of the entrance, and a small kitchen sat tucked away to the far left of the room.

"Hotel room? Nah, this is more like an apartment," Vaughn muttered, appreciatively eyeing the large thirty-two-inch television sitting across from a gold and silver embroidered couch and chair. The entertainment system was unlike anything he'd ever seen, let alone dreamed about.

"You want some music? Maybe some sexy jazz?" he asked with a crooked grin, meandering over to the stereo system and opening the protective glass door before fiddling with some buttons, a decent station playing various jazzy melodies, the strands of the soft saxophone swirling around the once quiet room.

"Oh, man!" Sydney's voice called, Vaughn immediately rushing off through yet another set of double doors and nearly crashing into her back as they both scanned the bedroom with trained eyes. "I wanna move in," she muttered with a breathless laugh before moving to the bed and feeling the soft quilt with her hand.

The four-post bed rose up in the center of the room, large white sheets spilling over the edges as a mahogany duster brushed along the floor. Several deep red, gold, and silver pillows adorned the top of the bed, an amber colored afghan resting on the end mostly for show and completing the ensemble.

All of the wood was a deep cherry color, complimenting the furniture of the living room and kitchen perfectly. The dresser had a large bouquet of roses accentuated with a few sprigs of white baby's breath strewn through the floral arrangement - a white card next to the crystal vase stood out and Vaughn picked it up, reading the scrawled handwriting.

"Syd, this card's for you," he smiled, seeing her turn her attention away from the bed and over to where he was standing. She took it from his hands with a curious smile before opening it to find that it was from her father.

'Happy Birthday, sweetheart.'

The message wasn't much by way of uproarious speech or wistful poetry, but to her it meant so much more than either of those could express. To her, it signified - perhaps hinted - that she may one day have a normal life. Something void of the constant terror and the many hours of jetlag she suffered after jumping from country to country in search of the bad guys.

"You okay?" Michael asked quietly, seeing the tears well up in her eyes as she flashed him a bright smile, wiping at her nose quickly before blinking back the tears.

"Yeah, it's…it's from my dad. He just wanted to say happy birthday, that's all," she sighed, slipping the card back into its protective envelope before stepping closer to Vaughn.

"Thank you so much for this, Vaughn, I really needed this break," she muttered into his neck, sliding into his arms as he began to sway with the gentle music. His hands unlaced the string behind her back as his mouth traveled down her neck placing light kisses against her flesh.

"You tryin' to start somethin' Mr. Vaughn?" she asked coyly, pulling away from his roving lips to unbutton and push his jacket off of his shoulders.

"Well…you read my mind," he grinned, covering her mouth once more before sliding his tongue out to duel with hers.

They took their time memorizing the feel of each other - the taste - and the ever-growing sensuality that they shared. His lips were commanding yet gentle, and this was the one place she allowed herself to be completely vulnerable and devoid of the protective walls she'd constructed.

His jacket was left in a pile on the floor, as well as tie and silvery blue shirt. Her hands roamed his chest, fingers going over each line, lump and rippling muscle until they met the waistband of his trousers.

He was by no means standing still under her inspection - quite the contrary. He completely untied the back of her dress, the strings hanging limply over her backside, before sliding up her ribcage and pulling the straps of the lightweight dress until they were down to the crook of her elbows.

Once the majority of their clothing was in scattered piles on the floor, they awkwardly made their way over to the beautiful bed.

"Wait a sec, I need to pull down the blankets," he mumbled against her mouth and moved away from her, his eyes having a tough time turning away from the sight of her clad in only a matching set of underwear, the thigh-high hose pulled off right after the dress.

She watched the muscles of his back stretch out as he shoved the pillows off to the other side and grabbed the blankets, hurling them down to the other end of the bed. Throwing off one pillow and leaving one behind for their heads, he turned back to her with a wide smile.

"You're such a gentleman," she grinned, his hands gripping her waist before sliding up to snap off her bra and push it off of her body as he lead her to the bed.

"Always for you," he whispered while nuzzling his nose into her throat, a breathy groan slipping from her lips as her body pressed flush against his. She scattered small pecks over his shoulder while he turned, dipping her back until she lay on the soft silky sheets.

He left her with her legs hanging off the edge as his hands and mouth traveled lower after one brief kiss. His tongue swirled each of the twin peaks, her nipples jutting out against his tongue. She groaned, fingers delving in to take fistfuls of his hair as he pulled back, his mouth disconnecting with a pop before he blew a cold blast of air over each breast, leaving them straining while moving lower to her stomach.

He worshiped each abdominal muscle, his mouth leaving several pinkish red marks against her skin before dipping his tongue into her navel and pulling back. Removing her panties with gentle fingers, his hands skimmed back up her legs as he met her closed eyes and flushed face.

Reaching up behind her, he lifted her upper body and slid it back so her head was resting on the fluffy pillow, his eyes scanning her nakedness with a fiery emerald stare. Vaughn pulled his boxers off, letting them drop to the floor as his hardness jumped up, twitching every few seconds as he flopped down next to her on the bed.

"You are so beautiful, have I told you that?" he asked, leaning in for a sweet kiss as his hand rubbed her arm lightly.

"A couple of times perhaps," she stated with a grin, facing him on her side as they each propped their heads up with a hand.

"I don't think we've ever actually gotten this far into it without jumping one another," he chuckled, pulling her closer until no viable space was left between their heated bodies.

"Well, if you think about it - it's not like we ever get more than ten minutes to enjoy anything before we're called in." Leaning forward once more, she pressed a small kiss to his chin, briefly letting her tongue trace the crease before pulling back with a wide smile.

"Well…we don't have to worry about that this weekend," he grinned, one hand resting on her hip as the other reached out and pulled her head into the crook of his neck and, subsequently, onto his shoulder.

The hand on her hip moved down to pick up her leg and settle it over his waist, causing the tip of his cock to touch the heated warmth of her core. Pressing a kiss to her neck and shoulder, her mouth sucking lightly on his earlobe and racing pulse point, back and forth between his throat and collarbone, he inched up with his hips until the head was completely buried in her wet heat.

Still facing each other on their sides, he groaned into her hair, several curled, fly-away strands clinging to his sweaty cheek, pushing up slowly with his hips until he was inside her body completely. A rush of air was pushed from her lungs at the intensity of his entrance, and they stilled their bodies until she adjusted to his girth.

"You okay, baby?"

"Yeah…just…it just feels different," she mumbled, her words muffled against his skin.

"Different in a good way?"

"Oh, God yes," she groaned as he pulled back equally as slowly before the tip popped out and rubbed against her hardened clit. "Vaughn…oh, man," she groaned as he smiled pulling back with his hips in an effort to angle himself back to her opening, but unable to do so with the way their bodies were lying.

Before he could react, she reached down and gripped his cock with her hand, fingers skimming over the top before positioning it back against her moist lips, her hand retreating to lay flat against his lower stomach.

Pushing in completely, he pulled back out slowly, repeating the process several times over many minutes until her hips began to rock against him, her body aching for more. He increased his speed marginally, still taking the time to pull out completely so she'd have to assist him back into her body.

Finally, he pulled out completely - smiling at the whimper she let out into his shoulder - pushing away from her despite the firm grip of her clinging arms. Her questioning eyes met his and he leaned in to a wet kiss, moving her body until she was flat on her back, her legs opening quickly to let him back into the warmth she offered.

Pushing himself into her quickly, the breath left her lungs as his pace started to become more frantic and hurried, his body smothering hers as he propped himself up at the elbows, his lower arms stretching out with his hands cupping her head, holding her against him.

This forced his hips to take over with every movement, the base of his cock pressing into her clit on each down stroke. Her legs clung to his waist as her hands gripped his back, fingernails leaving small crescent-shaped indents over his shoulder blades.

Their bodies were covered in a fine sheen of sweat, their pressing and pushing sending them both over the edge, Sydney crying out his name into his neck as he buried his face into her shoulder, his hoarse grunt and ensuing grunts mirroring each spasm of her clenching walls around his spurting member.

They lay motionless, lips giving light caresses as they came down from their high, the room ceasing its spinning as he tried to pull away from her before he crushed her with his weight.

"No, not yet," she begged, her voice low and raspy as she squeezed him tighter to avoid him leaving.

"I don't wanna crush you, at least lemme grab the blankets so we don't freeze," he laughed lightly, trying to extract himself from her arms, feeling her refusal in the way her body still clung to his. With a sweet sigh and a kiss to her cheek, he lifted her body as he sat up, keeping himself lodged inside her core as well as their upper bodies connected.

Finally managing to sit up with her legs around his waist, her rear end perched on his straining thighs as he leaned back a bit with his arm and lifted the blankets - thankful that one didn't make it all the way to the floor.

Dragging it over their cooling bodies, he leaned onto his side, pulling her with him as he tucked the blanket around their waists, his arms wrapping around her as she sighed into his throat.

"I like it," she whispered, Vaughn feeling her smile against his skin.

"Like what?"

"I like not being rough," With a laugh and a kiss, they snuggled deeper into the bed as he agreed, but quickly added:

"Yeah, but rough is fun too,"

* * * * *

A/N: WOO HOO! WE"RE DONE WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER! Now, we've got two choices. I can run with one of the ideas mentioned in the previous chapter (chapter 4) or I can continue with their hotel stay. Let me know your votes! Thanks for being so patient!

-Jean


	6. Chapter 6: Awry

Chapter 6: Awry

Sydney slammed the door to the safe house, the chilly night air blowing errant bits of snow into the shoddy living room. On the other side of the door, Vaughn fought down his rising anger and calmly opened it back up, walking in behind her.

The only sign that she'd even been here was the string of tactical gear leading to the small bathroom of the one bedroom house. Following the wet spots where she'd walked, he lifted up the vest, jacket, and holster, looking up when the door to the bathroom opened. Rather than seeing her face he was hit with two gigantic boots, one slamming into his thigh as the other nailed his injured arm.

He growled, pushing down the anger once more as he saw the door close once more, the water running as she poured herself a bath.

He shivered, thinking that a bath was probably a good idea. Unfortunately, he knew he wasn't going to get a chance any time soon. Removing his own tack gear, he walked into the kitchen after kicking off his boots toward the door. Rummaging through the cabinets, he managed to find a can of coffee, two small startled mice and a box of tea with the end chewed open.

Grabbing both the tin and the box, he began his search for a pot to boil water in. After successfully making the worst cup of coffee ever, he poured it out with a grimace, grabbing two unscathed teabags and setting the kettle over the burner.

Hearing the water drain, he grabbed her large backpack off of the couch, moving over to the door. He hesitated before knocking, but decided that she'd be more upset if she had to ask him for her clothes. And – knowing the mood she was in – she's probably parade around naked before asking him for help with something.

'Not that that's a bad thing,' his mind swayed, Michael grinning as he tapped on the door. "Syd?"

"Go to hell."

"Sydney, I've got your clothes – they're by the door," he growled at her gruffly, dropping the bag to the floor and heading back to the kitchen.

The whistle blew and he poured two hot cups over the bags of tea, holding one in each hand as his fingers began to thaw out. He didn't look when the door opened, content to just sit and clutch the two steaming mugs as she snatched up her backpack and pulled it into the steaming bathroom.

He shook his head, bouncing up and down on the couch lightly as he tried to determine how comfy it would be to sleep on for the night.

"That's your bed," she growled between the bedroom and the bathroom, a rosy glow to her cheeks from the heat of the shower she'd taken.

"Told ya," he spoke to himself, sipping the scalding beverage, wincing at the temperature but deeming it better than the coffee before taking another sip.

He briefly glanced up at her when she walked into the room, a small ball of guilt lying in his stomach, but he stressed the term 'small'.

"I made you some tea."

Silence.

"It'll warm you up."

Silence.

"Did you save me any hot water?"

"Not on your life." She pulled out the laptop from its protective case and opened it up, the giant hoodie familiar to Vaughn's eyes as he realized it was his own, seeing a pair of his boxers peeking out from the band of his rolled up pajama pants.

"You're mad at me but you'll still wear my clothes?" he joked, seeing the death glare she tossed him, knowing that if looks really could kill he'd be six feet under by now. "Sydney, I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," she growled, beginning to type up her report on the mission earlier that day.

"You know what? No – I'm not. I'm not sorry I decided to hit the kill switch because it saved your life." His anger was beginning to bubble to the surface, and he instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing.

"You erased it…all of it. I can't forgive you for that, Vaughn."

"Baby, I had to," he reached out to touch her, pulling back when the glare returned.

Sydney went back to ignoring him and he determined that it was a lost cause. Standing and scooting her tea toward her, he made his way to the bathroom.

Closing the door, he quickly noticed the open and used First Aide kit sitting on the counter. He'd known she'd been hurt, but she didn't mention where. "Typical Sydney," he grumbled, pulling the black sweater over his head, the equally dark shirt coming with it. The shirt stuck to his wound, the laceration probably deep enough to require stitches, but there was no way he was telling the angry woman in the living room that.

He decided to clean it out during his shower, the black and gray cargo pants hitting the floor next to hers, his boxers and socks landing in the same pile. Naked, he lifted the clothes up and opened the bathroom door, walking across the hall into the bedroom and dumping them into the corner.

"The gear is in the room," he stated, walking back into the bathroom with a grin, knowing that her eyes had followed him on his nude trek down the hall.

Jumping back into the bathroom, he flipped on the hot water knob, his hand waiting patiently for the warm water to kick on. Unfortunately, that moment never came, and he settled for a luke-warm, more cold than anything, shower.

Shivering more when he got out than when he went in, he grabbed the one towel, finding it soaked after Sydney's hot-water-stealing stint a few minutes earlier. Toweling off with the cold terrycloth, he looked around for his clothes and remembered that they were still in his pack. Which, if he remembered correctly, should be in the living room.

"Damn… f**king night!" he cursed quietly, wrapping the towel around his waist and walking into the living.

"Where's my bag?" he asked, looking around the room and not spotting the item anywhere.

"Probably with the Jeep."

"You didn't grab it?" he asked, incredulously.

"Why would I have?" she asked, her voice monotone, her eyes not bothering to look up from the screen.

"Because you said, 'I'm gonna get the stuff from the Jeep', that's why!" he shouted, his hand still clutching at the towel, his body shaking as the beads of water dried on his cool skin.

"No, I said I was gonna grab _my _stuff."

"Sydney, goddammit!" he shouted, slamming his hand into the wall, cursing again when the pain reverberated, letting him know that it was his injured arm. The blood had been thinned by the dripping water, now looking like it was running in rivulets down his arm and dripping off the ends of his fingers. "Everything I had _with _me was in that bag!"

"Should've grabbed it," she snapped, her anger not letting up as she continued to type away on the small keyboard.

"F**k!" he yelled, stalking back into the bedroom, unwrapping the towel and setting it against his arm and finding one of her hair-ties on the top of her pile of clothes. Grabbing it and stretching it almost past its limit, he secured the towel around his arm, looking at the pile of clothes on the bed.

Picking up his sweater, shirt, and pants, he could feel how damp they were. Running six miles from shouting guards as well a walking another ten to reach the safe house – all while blinding and sticky snow blew into their faces – ensured that the clothing wouldn't be wearable until they dried.

He shivered again, lifting her stuff up and setting it on the dresser as opposed to just dumping them onto the floor. She was notoriously stubborn, he knew that, but right now her anger was taking control of her emotions.

And he was still naked and wet.

Hauling the large downy quilt off of the bed, he wrapped himself up and gathered all of their wet clothes, carrying them into the living room, trying desperately not to trip over the long hanging blanket around his legs.

She ignored him, and though her anger was still there, she did feel sort of bad that she'd deliberately left his bag behind. Still, her anger was enough and she was determined to hold onto the resentment for as long as she could.

He started a fire, rigging up the pokers and a few skinny sticks into a clothesline of some sort, draping their clothes in front of the heat before sitting down in front of the fire himself.

"I'm sorry I hit the kill switch, Syd," he started.

"No, you're not," she replied frostily.

"I am **now **since it made you leave my clothes sixteen miles away in an unoccupied Jeep," he retorted, tossing her a wry grin, seeing the glare she tossed over the tilted screen of the laptop. Hurt and anger shone equally in her eyes, and he turned back toward the flames, sticking his hands out to warm them up.

"It wasn't the easiest thing for me to do, Sydney."

"Seemed like it was," she retorted.

"She killed my father…and we had all the answers at our fingertips. Every contact she had during her time with the KGB, all of it. All of her reports," he whispered, his eyes lost in the tangle of fire before him.

She stopped typing to look over at his back as he sat in front of the heat wrapped in that ridiculous blanket. Though she was still furious at him, the icy wall she'd set up was beginning to melt away.

"But the intelligence would have told us exactly where she was. We could've gotten her," she stated, closing the computer and setting it on the table beside her empty teacup.

"I know," his voice was still quiet.

"Then isn't that worth the risk? It's worth _everything_, Vaughn!" her voice was watery and frustrated, tears slipping over her lids as she wiped angrily at them, folding her hands in her warm lap.

He shook his head, his mind slipping back into his memories. "I have this…this memory of my father," he paused, letting the words reach her ears. "He…he took me to my first hockey game. I was so nervous, I almost wet my pants. I was…eight years old and had been practicing all my life for this one game. He'd shown me everything he knew, and I was more than ready to apply it."

"First face off, this giant kid slammed into me and I landed flat on my ass. After remembering who and where I was, I got up and looked over at my dad, and he was…beaming. He was actually happy that I'd gotten knocked down, and I couldn't understand; I didn't know what would make him enjoy watching me fail."

He stopped for a moment, his eyes still focused intently on the dancing flames, watching them sway around each other intricately before dying out near the top of the fireplace.

"So, toward the end of the game, with him shouting at me – coaching me through everything, I got a hold of the puck and decided I was gonna go for it. I could hear him yelling at me to stop, but I didn't. I shot it straight into the goal, Syd; almost caught the net on fire, and as everyone on the team cheered for me, I got a good look at my father's face.

He was furious."

"Why?" she squeaked from the couch, his voice soothing her, smoothing away her anger and replacing it with guilt. Guilt over something she hadn't done, but guilt none-the-less.

"Apparently, when I'd broken away with the puck, I'd cross the white line that marked the edge of the playing area. We played on this gigantic lake, but only a part of it got thick enough to actually hold weight without breaking, and that's where we set up the hockey lines and nets."

"When I'd crossed the line, I'd gone into a spot where the ice began to crack. I didn't see it crack, but my dad did. After the goal, he flew across the ice and grabbed my arm, almost throwing me into the truck before driving away. Still, I didn't know I'd done anything wrong. He spent the entire twenty-minute drive yelling at me for not listening – not following his rules."

"He grounded me from playing hockey until he got back from his business trip. I was so mad at him that when we got home, I jumped out of the truck and told him, 'I hope you don't come back!' Later that night, when he came up to tuck me in, he told me why he'd yelled – why I was in trouble."

"He said it wasn't that he was angry, he was just scared. He was proud of me for getting my first goal, but I'd broken the rules to get it, and that was wrong. If I'd fallen through the ice, all my hockey gear would have pulled me down to where his arms couldn't reach me and I'd drown. That's why he'd yelled at me to let the puck go and not take the shot."

"But, being an eight year old boy, I ignored him – told him to go away. He left that night for his trip and never came home."

Tears fell freely from her eyes as she understood now that it wasn't just herself that had been robbed of righting the wrong that was her mother, by getting Irina Derevko back into custody…Vaughn had the same sense of loss going through his veins. The same betrayal - more so perhaps.

"Sydney, you didn't have anything to do with that woman's betrayal, you know that. And…and I don't blame you for what she did to my family – what she did to me. But the lesson I learned from my father that day on the ice isn't one I'm just gonna forget. Yes, we _had _the goal in sight, and yes, we probably _could _have gotten away with it, but I will never **once **put a piece of information before your life. _**Never**_," he affirmed, looking over at her splotchy face and leaking eyes.

"It wasn't worth it, Syd; she isn't worth it. Not to me."

Silence filled the room for quite some time, with the only sound the comforting crackle of the fire. Sydney hadn't said anything after Vaughn's compelling story, but her feelings of guilt and remorse wouldn't dissipate. Not just for the things that her mother had done, but for the fact that she'd been so awful to Michael in the last few hours.

The fact that he loved her so much that he'd forego catching the woman who killed his father showed more than his level of integrity.

The fact that she'd been selfish enough to leave his only bag of clothes back at their Jeep showed a little something about her as well, and she stood quietly before making her way into the bedroom. Changing out of Vaughn's typical sleeping outfit, one that she'd packed because his clothing was comfier than her own, she changed into her own pajamas, slipping on an extra long sleeved sweatshirt to fight of the bite of the chilly air.

He turned when she walked back into the room, his hands in the process of checking on the dryness of the clothes beside him. Despite the blanket and the fire, he was freezing. The floor wasn't adequate at all, and his backside and legs were nearly numb from absorbing the coolness from the wooden planks. Looking down, he realized quickly that he wasn't sitting on the wool carpet.

"Here," she spoke, catching his attention. He looked up at her outstretched hands, his neatly folded pajama pants and hoodie waiting in her arms. He tossed her a lop-sided grin, standing, and taking the clothes – something resembling an awkward peace offering between the two.

Dropping the blanket to the floor, he nearly jumped into his clothing, warm from Sydney's body.

"Thanks," he murmured, seeing her begin to turn away, her eyes looking down at the laptop. He caught her arm, pulling her back up before him. "It can wait," he almost ordered, his arms wrapping around her back and shoulders, her body instantly relaxing and molding against his.

"I'm so sorry, Vaughn, I was such a jerk," she mumbled into his shoulder, her hands rubbing at his back as she felt the cool skin of his neck against her cheek. "C'mon, let's sit by the fire," she pulled away, setting a kiss to his cold nose, reaching down and lifting the blanket up.

"As long as we get to sit on the rug this time," he grumbled, tugging it over and flopping down, Sydney wrapping the blanket around him and perching neatly into his lap.

Vaughn wrapped his arms around her upper body, pulling the blanket around them both. He set his lips against her cheek, resting his chin on her shoulder. She tilted her head down, each mind muddled with their own thoughts as they watched the fire burn.

"You know, we should probably get some sleep," he mumbled, yawning into her ear before nipping gently at the lobe.

She chuckled, closing her eyes as his hands encompassed hers, pulling him tighter around her. "I don't think that you've got sleep on your mind."

He grinned, his lips trailing down from her ear to her throat, an occasional bite or suck taking place here and there. She sighed, his hands leaving hers to grip her waist, pulling her backside into his groin. Relaxing his hold, his cold hands pushed up the hem of her two shirts before settling over her stomach and ribs. She squeaked, trying to get away from his ice-like fingers, but they held strong.

"Your hands are freezing," she grumbled, tilting her head to the side to grant him better access to the column of her neck. He dove in, his tongue laving any love bites he left behind as a series of small purple marks trailed down from her ear to her collarbone.

"You're not leaving anything behind that my dad will see, will you?" she asked with a grin, his mouth popping away from her shoulder as he ignored her question, pushing his lips against hers. His tongue invaded quickly, dueling with it as they sighed, each breathing in the others exhale.

They devoured each others lips, tongues dueling for dominance as his hands inched their way up her shirt until his fingers were cupping her breasts, the peaks fitting perfectly in his palms. She arched her back against his chest, their mouths coming apart as she pressed kisses to the side of his jaw and neck.

He half lifted her up, half pushed her away before tilting her body down until she was sprawled out on the fuzzy wool rug before him. Stretching out beside her, he dragged the blanket up over their warming bodies, his mouth going back to the hollow of her throat. He dipped his tongue into the small depression, her groan making his erection throb against the cotton of his sweatpants, the friction only adding to his excitement.

Her fingers tugged at his hair, pulling his head back up to hers where she met him with a wet kiss, her tongue tracing his as she pressed her hips up against his waist. Given their situation, she chuckled against his lips, causing him to pull back with a half-grin, propping his torso up with one arm as the other traced a line from her shoulder to nipple, flicking the bud through the two layers of shirts she had on.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinkin'," she smiled, her hands sneaking up underneath the large sweatshirt to trace his twitching abs. "Kinda funny that on a mission - we end up having sex on a rug in front of the fire. Seems too romantic to me," she grinned, seeing him shake his head and swoop in for another kiss, silencing the conversation.

Eventually, after their clothes had been removed, Vaughn perched himself above her, locking his elbows into place as his hand tangled with her splayed hair beside her head. Aligning himself with her silken entrance, he thrust himself in to the hilt, dropping his head down to place a smacking kiss against her gasping mouth before pulling back to look down at her.

Removing completely from her body, the crown of his erection bouncing up against her clit, he positioned himself once more and slid home. His thrusts went from slow to fast, never quite giving her a chance to complete an orgasm, despite the fact that she begged him over and over to let her come.

He couldn't keep his eyes closed, even when she tried to throw him off with an occasional squeeze from her inner muscles. Watching her face contort in pleasure; hearing the pants and feeling her breath against his chest; that coupled with the fact that in his perched, less intimate, position he got an ample view of her body during their coupling.

Her breasts bounced with each thrust, and her legs were now bare from where the blanket had fallen down from their waists, covering only Vaughn's calves and feet. The occasional pop from the fire increased the sizzling heat between them as his eyes took in every inch of alabaster skin beneath him. He felt the churning low in his stomach, and from the squeaking and mewling sounds coming from Sydney's throat, she'd been close for some time. Dipping down, he licked across her upper lip where a drop of sweat was beading, the saline taste invigorating on his tongue. She met him, her once stationary hands against his stomach and chest now yanked him down to fully cover her body, one hand resting on his back between his shoulder blades as the other cupped the back of his neck, pulling at the hairs.

He groaned, the sound being swallowed between their panting mouths, willing his hips to move faster and faster until he'd reached his limit. His hot semen exploding against her walls, her own body crashing around his as he breathed in her cry, his arms holding her tight against his chest. Their mouths never parted, though their kisses became mere brushing of lips, the occasional tongue darting out as the sweat from their bodies cooled and they shivered simultaneously. Pulling out and away from her, she grumbled at the loss of contact, hearing him laugh before finally opening her eyes.

"Where you goin'?" her sultry voice asked, the purple haze in her eyes making his stomach drop with desire, despite their recent climaxes.

He didn't answer, merely reached back and found the quilt, pulling it over his back before wrapping his arms underneath her and dragging her up against his chest. After swaddling them both, he stood on shaking legs and carried her to the bedroom, depositing his bundle onto the bed, diving in after her.

"Michael…I'm sorry for the way I acted. I was being a selfish jerk," she whispered, feeling his arms mold her body into his, her head coming to rest on his shoulder with a sigh.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'll just have to get you back,"

"Oh really" she asking with a lift of her head, intrigued.

"Yep. I foresee bondage, Sydney. _Lots of bondage_,"

* * * * *

A/N: Well…not how I wanted it to go at all. I wanted angry, explosive sex! And it turned out that my brain didn't. Oh well, next chappie. Right?

-Jean


	7. Chapter 7: Party of Three

A/N: So, a warning about this chapter, it does involve a hot, heavy threesome. Now…I don't believe Syd would stray too far from Vaughn, but I've added a twist to make it seem like the characters stay…well…_in _character. Hopefully you all enjoy it! Get comfy…it's another long one. I think I'm incapable of writing 'short stories.' Geesh.

Chapter 7: Party Of Three

Vaughn cinched her hands to the bed post, taking special care in making sure that the rough metal of the handcuffs were covered with the soft cloth so they wouldn't hurt her wrists. When he'd snagged the cuffs from work that afternoon, he was already hard just thinking about using them on her later that evening. After that, he double-checked the blindfold to assure himself that she couldn't see a thing. Picking up a large ostrich feather he stood at the end of the bed to just watch her, powerless for the moment.

"I know you're still here." Despite her temporary blindness, she could always sense when he was around her.

"How?"

"Vaughn-dar," she answered matter-of-factly before stretching her long legs out in front of her, exploiting the fact that he'd stolen the red lingerie from CIA op tech storage. She'd get back at him some time soon for making her prance around the bedroom in almost the same humiliating fashion as the fat, shrimp-eating man aboard the plane that housed server 47. Secretly, she enjoyed Michael's eyes on her, knowing that she was able to make him rock hard after merely strutting around the bedroom.

He'd quickly turned the tables, though, ordering her to lie down on the bed and set her wrists up against the posts.

"You're not gonna leave me hanging like you did last time, are you?"

"Nah. Once was enough for _that_," he laughed, settling his weight down onto the coverlet but keeping a respectable distance between their bodies.

Lifting the feather, he switched his spot until he was kneeling astride her legs. Bringing the fluffy tip to her stomach, he swirled it around her belly button as she arched her back, letting out a string of half-giggles, half-moans.

"No…no, Vaughn, I'm ticklish!" she begged, trying in vain to get away from the item in his hands. She didn't need to ask to know what it was.

"Let's play a game." His voice was nearly a whisper, but he kept the deep gravely edge that he knew drove her crazy.

She shook her head in defiance, Michael dragging the feather down the right side of her ribcage, smiling as she squirmed. His jeans were impossibly tight, his erection begging to be set free from the constricting denim.

"I said, 'let's play a game'. We're going to mess with your senses. Phase one is feeling." This time, the order was heeded and he backed off with the tickling. "You have to tell me what I'm using on you," his voice slid back down to a sensual whisper.

"Umm…a feather?"

"There ya go," he praised, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her stomach, lingering long enough for his tongue to dart into the button before pulling back to his straddling position over her knees.

He looked to the small end table he'd set next to the bed, his fingers pausing over the many objects he'd set out for his 'torture' session. Deciding on a large child-like paintbrush - the bristles fluffy yet sturdy – he touched it to the tip of her nose. Dragging it over her left cheek, he briefly let it brush over her lips before moving down the slope of her jaw. He pulled away and she knew she must answer her lover before he would touch her again.

"I don't know," she whimpered.

"Hmm…" he muttered between closed lips as he set it to her hot skin once more, running it around her ear and down the side of her neck. Pulling away once more, she hazarded a guess.

"Umm…another feather?"

"That's not very inventive," he scolded.

"Well, you're not giving me any hints!" she growled in return, Vaughn responding by sticking the paintbrush into her ear as though he were giving her a Wet Willie.

She groaned and pulled away, aching to itch the spot when he set it to her stomach once more.

"If this is the feel test, why can't I use my hands?"

"Because you're an Operations Officer for the United States Central Intelligence Agency."

"This was never in _my _training," she mumbled, Michael shaking the bed with a laugh.

"Here," he conceded, sticking the tip of the large brush into her hand, swirling it around her palm before pulling away.

"A…paintbrush?"

Rather than verbalizing her success, he leaned forward and suctioned his lips over the hollow between her collarbones. She groaned at the contact, her hands straining against the cuffs to touch him. Pulling away with a smack, she kicked her leg lightly in frustration, Vaughn laughing once more before picking something else up from his 'workstation.'

It was slippery in his hands, but he managed to keep a hold of it before dragging it in a slow circle around her belly button.

"Oh my God…ice! Ice!" she cried out, trying to twist her body away from his diligent fingers, but the constant pressure of him sitting on her lower legs made it difficult.

"Ice what?" he asked with a vicious grin.

"Ice cubes!"

"Now, now, English major. Does it feel like more than one? Singular, Sydney," he breathed her name, sticking the nearly gone cube into her belly button as she squirmed.

"Damnit, ice _cube_!" she snarled through clenched teeth as Michael lapped up the melted ice from her button, tracing the chilly circles with his tongue before pulling away. A drip fell from his chin to her thigh, but she noticed only vaguely, in the back of her mind; most of her senses were focused on his purposeful actions.

"Okay, I think you did pretty good with round one," he taunted her.

"Does that mean I get a cookie?" she asked in annoyance, growing both excited and frustrated by his games.

"No."

"Damn," she muttered, cracking a grin at his harsh statement. "Does that mean I get to take off the blindfold?"

"No."

She pouted, Vaughn smirking as he leaned over and grabbed the first small bowl.

"Now we move on to taste. One of my favorites," he grinned, leaning forward and licking her lower lip.

In return, she darted her tongue out and traced where he'd just wet her skin, murmuring in response.

"That was easy - tasted like Vaughn."

"Nice try, but we're haven't even started yet."

Grabbing the paintbrush he dabbed it into the bowl, getting a copious amount of goo onto the end. Without wiping it on the edge he moved it to her lips as the substance drizzled over her stomach and chest, his eyes watching the drops as they stuck where they landed.

After feeling the goop drip onto her chin, she frowned behind the mask as Vaughn reassured her, saying, "It's not gonna kill you – open up."

Obeying, she tasted the sweet, sugary compound carefully, her tongue flickering out to clean off her lips.

"It's honey."

"Very good," he smiled, setting the items back down onto the stand.

"Wait, don't I get something for getting it right? A kiss? A hug? An orgasm?"

Without even answering, he leaned forward and began lapping at the trails of sticky sweetness around her stomach, deliberately ignoring her breasts as he moved up her body.

"C'mon, how long are we gonna do this?" she groaned, her nipples getting impossibly harder as he bypassed them to her chest.

The sudden ringing of a cell phone made them both groan – in a _non_-sexual way – as Michael grabbed it from his back pocket.

"Vaughn," he answered.

Weiss' voice broke through the earpiece, "Hey, you two busy?"

"What makes you think I'm with Sydney right now?" he complained, hating that his friend could read him so well.

Eric only laughed as he chose to ignore the death stares both Kendall and Jack were throwing his way. "Because you two are the biggest horn-balls I've ever known. Ten to one, you've got her tied to the bed and are in the middle of something incredibly kinky."

"Wow, you're good." Vaughn confirmed, impressed, as he heard Weiss' answering shudder.

"Dude…I was just kidding! Well, it doesn't sound like you're gettin' lucky tonight. Get in here; Jack and Kendal got us an operation. A chance to get a step ahead of Sloane for once," he muttered, hanging up before Vaughn could try and form an adequate excuse.

"Damnit," he growled, tossing the phone behind him on the bed before extracting the key to the handcuffs from his pocket. Unlocking them quickly, Sydney was startled as her hands were suddenly freed.

"What's goin' on?" With a flip of her wrist behind her head, the blindfold toppled down to her chest as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the bedroom. She felt more than saw Vaughn slide off of her legs, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "Vaughn?"

"That was Weiss – we've got a mission."

"Ugh, of course we do. With the weekend off and a crap load of sexual tension to get rid of, we get to go to work."

"Hey, look on the bright side," he started, grabbing a clean pair of dress pants as he willed his stiff cock to deflate before they met with Jack Bristow. "Maybe we'll get to visit a place with a nice cushy office and a couch where we can get busy."

"A _threesome_?!" Weiss, Sydney, and Vaughn shouted simultaneously, their shocked eyes looking up from their folders to Marshall's bright red face.

"Well…umm…the only access to the office is from this bedroom. This club is frequented by people that…ummm…like having more than two…people in the room. You just gotta pretend...I promise!" His common stutters usually made them all smile, but this time it wasn't cute.

"A _threesome_?" Repeating their earlier statement, Kendall took over.

"You three will infiltrate the club and gain access to this room here; it's a bedroom used by paying customers. Agent Vaughn will use the drill to make a hole in the ceiling into the office above, and then Weiss will insert the camera equipped with a remote modem. You need to get that thing within two feet of the computer for it to work."

"That's a two person job, so why do all three of us need to go in?"

Marshall interceded, "Weiss will be moving the camera and modem around and Vaughn'll be watching the handheld screen. You're gonna have to hack into their system using this laptop and a phone jack. Now…they've got some pretty crazy security measures on their server, so it'll probably take me about five minutes to break their firewall and hack their files. Everything will pretty much download to the laptop's hard drive, and when it's done, just remove the drive."

Kendal nodded to the techie, signaling for Marshall taking his seat quickly

"Now…they have security cameras in the room. Apparently this guy really likes to watch his patrons – enjoy themselves, shall we say?" Sydney rolled her eyes as Vaughn and Weiss looked uncertainly back and forth. "You'll need to make it convincing until Marshall gives you the word that he's jammed the monitors."

"Won't the guy know somethin's up?" Weiss commented, trying to think of every viable excuse to get out of the mission.

"Not if the last thing he sees are you three enjoying yourselves. He'll leave his office and go to the security room to rectify said problem. Marshall has assured us that they'll have enough problems getting back online in three years, let alone the ten minutes the whole op will take. Any questions?" Kendal looked at his agents and saw that they had plenty of questions, just no desire to voice them. "Wheels up in half an hour, you'll be taking a private CIA jet to Mexico City."

They boarded the plane in silence, a desperate sort of awkwardness surrounding the three agents. Sydney and Vaughn took the double-seat against the wall of the fuselage, Weiss plopping into the single one beside them.

"I don't know about you…but I'm a little weirded out by this whole thing." Eric stretched his legs out as Sydney leaned her shoulder into Vaughn's.

The plane was silent, Sydney absorbing herself into the files as Vaughn pretended to read the book he'd brought along. Weiss occasionally snored from his reclined position as Sydney stole a glance at her boyfriend. To her surprise, she noticed immediately that he'd closed the book and had it sitting on his leg, his piercing green eyes staring directly at her.

"What's that look for?"

"The fact that I've still got a hard-on from your little jaunt around the bedroom earlier only adds to the pile of sexual tension I've got stored in my brain." He effectively turned on the 'sex-voice' making Sydney shiver in response.

"Vaughn," she warned, but he continued anyway.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to just crawl off of you to go to work-"

"Vaughn, don't!"

"To un-cuff you from your cinched little spot on the bed? Blindfolded and everything! We didn't even get to finish my game."

His eyes never left hers – emerald burning into caramel as Sydney's gaze finally shifted over to Weiss. "He sleeps like the dead," Vaughn responded as he saw the familiar purple hue begin to saturate her irises.

"What else did you have planned?" she asked quietly, Vaughn delighting in the fact that she was more than willing to play this verbal game with him. It was a relatively short flight from L.A. to Mexico City – compared to the many flights from Taipei and back in the same day.

"Well…a bowl full of honey and another of hot fudge," he listed.

"I met honey, we became good friends," she grinned, a single dimple popping out as she scooted closer to where he was sitting.

Vaughn turned so his body was facing her, one leg bending at the knee and flattening against the back of the couch as the other dropped to the floor, leaving his position perfect for her to move in-between his legs.

She made no such move, content to prolong their lust to the bitter end.

"Hot fudge?"

"Yep. Microwaved to a touch above warm, but not too hot." His smile was pure testosterone, as was his gravely voice.

She nodded, closing the filed in front of her quietly before meeting his eyes with a hooded gaze. "What else?"

Running a finger from the cleft in his chin to his abdomen, she wiggled her eyebrows as Weiss let out a small snore.

"Other than covering you in chocolate and f-cking you until neither one of us could see straight? God, Syd, how long has it been?" His mood changed slightly from completely horny to completely horny and whiny.

"I dunno, like…six days?"

"Feels like forever," he grumped but she just laughed, forcing him to take her hand and bring it to his lips. "You're not the one walkin' around the CIA offices with a hard-on."

"You're not the one who had to run home after almost every damn meeting because the looks you were getting made you so wet you had to change underwear." She deadpanned, seeing the surprised look on his face. "Yeah. You with your damn furrowed brow and deep green eyes – you make me weak at the knees," she scolded him as she scooted closer until she was sitting in the same fashion as he, tossing her outer leg over his thigh and her inner one around behind him.

Weiss cracked his eye open to sneak a peek at them, not wanting to ruin the moment between his two friends by telling them he'd been awake the whole time. Selfishly, he kinda wanted to see how far they would take it with him 'sleeping' right next to their couch.

Vaughn's arms wrapped around her, settling against her lower back to pull her closer against him. "You are so beautiful," he commented, her bright smile shining over him as she leaned in, cupping has face before joining their lips in a sweet kiss.

Then another…one more…then their tongues snaked out to join the party and they quickly lost themselves in each other. Michael's hands skimmed down over her dress pants to cup and squeeze at her ass, pushing her farther between his legs until she was almost on top of him.

Her mouth slanted over his as his tongue skimmed across the roof of her mouth before pulling back, his teeth nipping at her pouted lower lip. She couldn't keep the low moan from reverberating through her chest. Their previous activities had succeeded in turning them both on to the point of insanity, but leaving them bereft of their completion.

With one sizzling kiss, the lust seemed to be multiplied by a number close to infinity as it dropped like lead in their stomachs, burning a trail to their sexes.

Weiss – dazed as he was – had the wherewithal to keep his jaw from dropping as his two friends began making out. Not a hormonal teenager type of make-out; this was a foreplay session for two well-seasoned lovers. Right in **front **of him. Well…technically it wasn't in _front _of him; he was supposedly asleep.

The tightening of his groin made him painfully aware that he was awake, and he shifted slightly away from them both.

Sydney and Vaughn froze mid-kiss as Weiss wiggled around to find a comfortable spot on the odd shaped chair. Their eyes were the only things that moved, assessing the situation and figuring that their tangled arms and legs wouldn't really allow a quick parting without making it painfully obvious as to what they were doing.

Vaughn's hands still cupped her ass as her own were splayed across his bare chest. How she'd managed to open up his Oxford he had no clue, but she had.

"We should stop," she mumbled, the movements of her lips causing them to brush against his as he nodded, letting go of her backside aid in untangling their legs. She couldn't hold in a laugh as her hand accidentally brushed against his engorged cock through his tented trousers. "You should go take care of that," she grinned and saw his nod as he stood, pressing a kiss to her forehead before loping off in a stiff walk to the lavatory.

'Too bad I can't go in there and take care of _myself_,' she groused internally as she flipped open the abandoned file, sending Eric a glare and jumping back into her work with a cloudy mind.

The club was hot, sweaty, and pulsing. Sydney was dressed in the smallest miniskirt she'd ever seen; the high plaid stockings going up under her knees, accentuated by the nearly five inch stilettos adorning her feet. The tight, see-through shirt showed off her rippled abdomen, ending right below the black lace bra.

Vaughn and Weiss were almost dressed alike, though Eric was sporting a loose blue shirt over his baggy black pants while Vaughn was in a shining green button-up. The bouncer eyed the three, Sydney standing in the middle with her arms wrapped around both of the guy's waists, looking back at him with black-rimmed eyes.

The giant of a man let them pass as Vaughn reached his hand back and grabbed her ass, Sydney sending him a warning with her eyes despite the wicked smile she flashed.

"Can I grab your ass too?" Weiss whispered, Vaughn answering 'no' with his eyes.

They moved through the club to the bar, three sets of eyes scanning the maze until they spotted the bedroom near the back of the bar.

"You two blend in, I'll go get us a room," Weiss wiggled his eyebrows, Sydney laughing as he sauntered over to a rather intimidating man standing beside the bedroom's one entrance.

Vaughn turned her toward him with his hands against her shoulders, Sydney maneuvering easily in his arms as his mouth began blazing a path down her jaw toward her ear.

"You okay with this? You're pretty possessive today," she mumbled through clenched teeth as he nipped at a particularly sensitive spot.

"'M not looking forward to seeing you and Eric…" he left off.

"Maybe I won't have to-" she mumbled, a hand tapping her shoulder as she turned to see Weiss' embarrassed face.

"Kiss me," he mumbled, his form gesturing to the bouncer with unconvinced eyes staring directly at the three of them. "He said he wants proof," he mumbled, tossing each of them an apologetic stare.

While Vaughn paled slightly, Sydney didn't even blink. Sliding into her alias, she tossed the uncooperative bouncer a sexy smile before grabbing Weiss' head, slamming her lips over his. She could feel Michael's eyes on them both as Eric pushed aside the deep- rooted feeling of betraying his friend and wrapped his large arms around Sydney's smaller frame. Her tongue swirled around his for a brief moment before they both pulled away from one another, Sydney turning and doing the same with Vaughn, shaking him from his stupor.

"Sorry, baby," she muttered after pulling away, both men jumping into their roles to throw smug grins at the cocky bouncer. Turning away from the three of them to unlock the bedroom door, he pulled a cell from his pocket.

"Probably calling the management to inform our creep that he's about to get a show," Vaughn muttered as Sydney grabbed both boys' hands, leading them to the now opened room. She tucked her hair behind her ear nonchalantly, pushing the small button on the backs of the large earring, hoping that Marshall's sound jamming device would work.

Weiss pulled the backpack off his shoulder as the scruffy man looked through it, pulling out a video camera and a tripod, winking at the guard before closing the door in his face.

"Okay guys, just…gimme a minute," Marshall paused in their ear before flickering back to life. "Okay, you've got fifteen seconds before the signal is jammed, so you're gonna have to…act."

Sydney didn't say anything in response, turning and seeing Weiss pretending to struggle in setting up the video camera. That left her with Vaughn. She shoved him back toward the large bed, having to admit that for a sex room in a club, this one it wasn't as bad as some others they'd been in. She pounced on her boyfriend, her mouth sliding over his as her hands fretted with the buttons of his shirt.

His tongue stroked hers as she moaned into his mouth, the sudden vibration causing a burst of lust to rush from his brain to his groin. His hands suddenly joined the action, rubbing from her back up to her curled hair, and then skimming downward until he cupped her ass.

"You seem pretty preoccupied with my ass there, big guy," she grinned against his mouth, hearing Marshall interrupt.

"You do know that…we hooked into their system…right?"

"Why do you ask, Marshall?"

"No reason. That was…pretty hot, though," he giggled, feeling more than seeing Jack Bristow's glare before jumping back into the mission. "You guys should be good for about ten minutes, maybe less."

"Thanks, Marshall," Vaughn grumbled sarcastically as they all three got to work.

Within five of the ten allotted minutes, Vaughn had the hole drilled and maneuvered to the LCD screen as Weiss inserted the camera through the ceiling. Sydney sat on the bed with the laptop ready as she waited for Vaughn's signal.

The whole operation took less than seven minutes, Marshall uploading the data from the computer faster than he'd originally thought as he gave them a thirty second warning.

Sydney quick ripped off her shirt and ordered the boys to do the same so it would look like they were in the process of redressing for the cameras when they turned back on. Packing all of their stuff, Sydney gave Weiss and Vaughn each another kiss before they exited the bedroom and finally the club, where they found a cab and made a break for the airport.

"Vaughn, how much do you want to bet that Syd's dad saw you groping her?" Weiss joked, the glare his friend sent being redirected by the ringing of his cell phone.

Eric stowed his things as Michael talked, the sudden worry in his voice alerting the other passengers to a conversation with Jack Bristow.

"_I hope that's not the etiquette that you use on every mission, Agent Vaughn_,"

"Of course not, Jack, only the missions with Sydney," Vaughn retorted without thinking of his safety…or the safety of his boys.

"_Your plane is going to be rerouted; there was an echelon interception that leads us to believe Sloane and Sark are in Bangladesh. We'll see you all back on Tuesday_."

The crisp conversation quickly over, Vaughn tossed his cell into the bag and stowed it in an overhead compartment. "We get to go to Bangladesh. Apparently they got some intel on Sloane and we need to look into it. Be prepared for a long flight," he sighed, flopping onto the sofa next to Sydney as she leaned into his shoulder.

"I'm gonna get a drink, you two interested?" Weiss called, moving to the mini bar in the back of the plane.

"I've got cards," Sydney suggested, wiggling out of Vaughn's grasp and jumping to get said item from her carryon.

Two hours later the three of them were a half-step beyond plastered as they attempted to play BlackJack, strewn out across the airplane cabin's floor.

"Ha! 21!"

"Eric, that's 19," Vaughn laughed, Sydney showing that she'd once again managed to score a Black Jack, collecting the pot while taking another shot of pineapple rum.

"Look, I had no counting…stuff…before I'm drunk…le's do sumthin' else," Weiss slurred, drinking the rest of the rum straight from the bottle as Vaughn finished his fourth glass of Pinot Noir, pouring another.

"Or speesh, obvisly," he muttered, Sydney giggling through another shot as Michael leaned over and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

"Gawd…you two's like bunnies!" Weiss growled as he grabbed Syd's shot glass and downed it before she had a chance to. Unfortunately, with his dexterity at a minimum and more than slightly fuzzed with the alcohol, most of the shot managed to splatter down his chin and onto his shirt.

"Well…if'n we'd gotten busy b'fore the damn mission, I wouldn' be horny as hell," Vaughn flipped Weiss off with a chuckle before diving into Sydney's neck again, his nose pushing loose strands out of the way as Weiss shook his head at the two of them.

"I dunno, Vaughn," Sydney gulped down some more rum. "Weiss is a pr'ty good kiss'r." She felt him pull away, expecting to see a glare in his jade eyes.

Instead, there was an unknown fire burning in the depths. Something…elusive.

"Prove it," he ground out.

"What?" A sudden sense of sober washed over her, though the edges were still laced with haze.

"Prove it."

Weiss shook his head to try and clear it, though no manner of shaking would remove the cotton ball taking residence around his brain. "Dude…this ishn't a good…thing…plan," he stuttered, trying to sit up.

"You're serious." It wasn't a question, more like a statement, and Vaughn only answered by a fiery nod of the head.

Sydney looked at Weiss…

Weiss looked at Sydney…

Both weighed their options until Vaughn crossed his arms over his chest, waiting with raised eyebrows. Sydney cautiously scootched closer to Eric, her eyes still holding Vaughn's until she turned her head and met Weiss' deer-in-headlights expression.

"You gonna beat th' 'ell outta me if I do this?" he asked Michael one last time, seeing his friend's shake before focusing all of his attention on the woman in front of him.

He cupped her face gently, pulling her closer as she knelt beside him, both hands pressed against his chest. They kissed tentatively, expecting Vaughn to change his mind at any moment, but when no warning came, their actions deepened.

'Weiss kisses nothing like Vaughn,' Sydney thought as Eric's tongue skimmed her lips and asked for permission to enter her mouth. 'Vaughn is all…enveloping. Eric's kinda sweet and tender.'

Vaughn watched as their mouths molded together, getting an itch of desire in his palms. Crawling up behind the crouching young woman, he pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Her lips popped away from Eric's, Vaughn reassuring them to continue as Weiss' hands slipped up to Sydney's waist. She moved over him, Eric spreading open his legs so she'd fit in between as Vaughn followed her from behind.

Sydney and Weiss' tongues dueled as Vaughn blazed a trail down her neck, his hands slipping between their two bodies and beginning to lift the hem of her t-shirt. The two pulled apart only for the removal of her top, the sight of the black lace making both men groan. Sydney was left with an erratic pulse and turbulent breathing as two very different mouths attacked her throat.

Tilting toward Vaughn as she sat on her knees, Eric inched his body back until he rested comfortably against the couch. He watched Michael's hands traced her abdomen with skill, his lips sucking her earlobe into his mouth as she arched against him. Her position – rocking back on her heels – made it all too easy for his kneeling legs to surround her, forcing his body directly against hers.

'They really do make a great couple,' he thought, his mind quickly being redirected by his tightening groin, his cock taking over the thought process. 'Yeah, a **hot **couple where the guy is askin' you to join in! Don't just sit, **stick me in there**!"

Sydney wasn't quite sure where all of this had come from, but she didn't want to question it. Vaughn had always been one to kink things up and thus start their little sex war…but this was going into a whole new kind of kink-territory. Somewhere dangerous, and exciting, and frightening; utterly and completely erotic.

And she liked it.

His hands surrounded her breasts, her eyes opened to fix Eric with a heavy-lidded gaze. She could see the beginning of a tent in his baggy pants, her mind straying as she mentally compared the two men with her.

'This is silly, you haven't even seen it yet!' she internally scolded, though a sudden endorphin rush pooling at her center stopped all thought processes in a hurry. Hands were everywhere, and she really didn't know which ones belonged to whom, but she wasn't sure she cared any longer. As Michael set to undoing her bra, Eric came out of his trance and reached out to trace her abdomen.

Weiss leaned back up, Sydney meeting him as she pulled away from her comfortable spot against Vaughn's chest to smash their mouths together. 'Well…so much for the tender and sweet Eric.'

His tongue shoved its way past her pouted lips, snaking around hers before setting out to memorize her. His mouth pulled away, leaving her gasping as he bent down to confiscate one of her newly freed nipples into his heated depths. A turnabout from the kiss, he was almost too gentle…reverent. While his teeth, lips, and tongue were busy at one peak, his gigantic hands showered the other with attention.

Vaughn had almost forgotten to act, his hands settled over Sydney's hips as he watched Eric devour his girl's breasts from his bird's eye view over her bare shoulder. A rush of blood jumped to his cock, a small spurt of precum soaking into the front of his boxers as his cock stood to full attention inside its cloth prison.

He leaned back far enough to pull his own shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind him to join Sydney's, though he wasn't sure where they'd landed. His hands moved up her back as he massaged the tense muscles, her hand reaching back for him. He leaned toward her, Sydney's fingers delving past his face to the back of his neck, gripping the short hair and pulling him around to the side so she could access his mouth.

Vaughn was a willing participant, keeping his lower body pleasantly pushed against her backside and tilting his upper body until their lips found one another. Her kiss was all wet heat, sucking his tongue in to duel with hers as she tried to steal the very breath from his lungs.

Eric switched from the right breast to the left, giving it as much attention as its partner. She dimly felt Vaughn's hands circle around from the back to the front, settling over her trousers and undoing them deftly.

"Wait," she croaked out, both men freezing simultaneously. "Why do I have to be the only one naked here?" she asked, each letting out a pent up breath they hadn't recalled holding in as they reluctantly pulled farther apart.

Eric moved back to lean against the couch, feeling a draft and looking down to see that she'd already unbuttoned his shirt. Shrugging, he slid his arms out and worked at his belt.

Vaughn felt her eyes on him as he slowly unbuttoned his pants, seeing the shock in her face at the realization that he'd removed his shirt without her knowing. 'Ten points for being a spy,' he congratulated himself mentally as she turned to help Weiss remove his trousers completely.

Once both boys were in boxers and nothing but, Sydney stood and slowly began to strip from her black dress pants. Once they pooled around her feet, she made a show of stepping out of them to stand before the two kneeling men in nothing but skimpy pair of underwear, black lace to match the bra now thrown across the room.

"I love your legs, Syd," Weiss mumbled, pressing a kiss to her knee as she smiled, feeling Michael's hands skim her thighs up to her hips, his fingers catching the sides of the delicate panties and pull them down slowly. Placing a kiss to the small of her back, Eric got his first glimpse of Sydney Bristow.

'I don't think it's possible, but I think I just had an orgasm without having one,' he thought as his eyes scanned her perky breasts, flat and toned abdomen, the small patch of neatly-trimmed curls at the juncture of her thighs, continuing down the long runner's legs and back up again in a matter of seconds.

"You're beautiful," he mumbled, feeling self conscious for the first time that evening as he reverted his eyes to the jet's carpet.

"No time for that," she reassured, kneeling between his legs once more, his back resting comfortably against the couch as she pressed her chest against his. Sweeping in for a wet kiss, Vaughn crawled his way up to her after kicking his boxers off, letting her feel his erection against the cleft of her ass.

Subconsciously pushing back toward him, her hands reaching down between she and Weiss to find the straining bulge in his underwear.

'Feels about the same length as Vaughn…only wider,' she mused, her hand wrapping around his shaft through the cotton.

Eric hissed, his head dropping back to the cushion of the leather couch, Vaughn standing and leaving them for a moment to grab something from his carryon bag. She had his boxers around his knees by the time Vaughn returned, a large pink bottle and a single condom in his hands.

"Dude…Sydney's lotion isn't gonna help here," Weiss complained, Vaughn tossing him a grin and holding the bottle label-up so he could read it. "Lube?! You guys just…carry that around in your suitcase?!" he asked excitedly, Michael popping the top and spreading some over his hands before slipping them around Sydney's breasts.

"Not just lube…I paid thirty bucks for that damn bottle when she dragged me into Fascinations." He tossed it to Eric. "It warms up with friction."

Turning on his sex-voice, he mumbled his last sentence into Sydney's ear as his hands began massaging her breasts, the tingling sensation beginning around the outside before setting fire to her painfully hard nipples. She arched into his hands with a throaty moan, Vaughn chuckling as his hands skimmed down her stomach, a wake of flames following his deft fingers until he reached the patch of curls.

Sydney snatched the bottle from Eric's fingers, putting an ample amount into the palm of her hand before wrapping it around his hard cock. Weiss groaned low in his chest, his eyes squeezing shut as she fisted him a few times to allow the warming to begin before letting go, the wide rod slapping back against his stomach as he looked up at her with frowning eyes.

"Patience," she scolded, running the tip of her index finger from root to the mushroomed head before lifting the bottle back up and putting a dollop into her hand, reaching back for Vaughn's straining erection and doing the same with him as he slid a well-coated finger into her pussy. Eric grabbed his own cock and began fisting it slowly as he watched his two friends torture one another with pleasure before Sydney turned to him.

Moving so that Weiss' legs were together and she was able to straddle them, she slithered up his body until his torso was supporting her upper body. Pushing up by setting her hands against the couch on either side of his head, she hovered over his body like a naughty angel. Sydney took his mouth once more, running her wet channel over his straining hardness two or three times until he took the initiative to reach down. He took himself in hand and aligned his swollen head with her dripping opening.

Eric peeked over her shoulder to Vaughn once more, seeing the lust and confirmation in his friend's emerald gaze. Without further ado, he lowered her gently over his dick, the tightness of her channel accentuating the lubrication they were using, the artificial cherry scent of filling the air.

Inch by inch she sucked him farther into her heated body until there was nowhere else to go. He paused, letting her adjust to his girth as her muscles rhythmically clenched his swollen shaft.

Sydney thought she would die from a sensation overload, but was further surprised as she felt Vaughn's well-coated finger begin to probe her back opening. 'He's not gonna…he is. We've only done that once though…and it hurt like hell,' she fought in her mind, turning her head.

He seemed to sense her trepidation, reassuring her with a kiss between her shoulder blades as he inserted his finger up to the knuckle, his mouth continuing to travel around her upper back and neck.

Weiss got the communication loud and clear. With strong arms he lifted her off of his lap to give him room to thrust, letting go only when she agreed to stay there of her own volition. Pulling out completely and flopping against his stomach, she reached down and pressed him back in as he surged his hips upward, one hand trickling down as his thumb began pressing circles into her clit.

The slippery ointment was doing its job as she felt a heat begin to spread through her core, radiating into her whole body. Vaughn inserted another finger, using her momentary lapse in consciousness to prepare her body for yet another entry. He could feel Weiss as he pushed insistently into her warmth, the knowledge that someone else was inside her strange and erotic, making him eager to press his own hardness into her pliant body. He grabbed the condom and rolled it with one hand over his cock, spreading out the warming goop over his latex-covered shaft.

Sydney was reaching her peak quickly, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what they were doing and applauded them for it, preparing herself for a unique combination of pleasure and pain. The first crest of her orgasm hit, Eric pulling from her channel and inserting two fingers in place of his length. His thumb continued to circle her bundle of nerves as Vaughn placed the head of his cock against the newly prepared opening, pressing it in as she came around Weiss' fingers. She was far too busy to regard Michael's intrusion as her hands moved from the couch to Eric's chest, propping herself at an angle over his body.

The new tilt of her form was perfect for Vaughn to push himself slowly until he was firmly tucked into her tight passage. For a moment he could feel Weiss' fingers still moving slowly in her c-nt, Sydney coming down from her high as Michael set his chin to her shoulder. Wrapping an arm around her stomach she turned to meet his mouth for a gentle kiss as Eric suctioned his lips over the racing pulse point at her throat.

Almost as slow as his entrance, Vaughn pulled back until only his glans was inside her. Grabbing the discarded lube from the floor, he applied some more to his shaft before sliding back home.

"This too much? You okay?" His breath brushed across her sensitive cheek as she nodded dumbly, spurring him to thrust again

They moved back and forth over their friend, Eric's mouth and hands busy with showering Sydney's body with attention and affection. Her kitten-like mewls and tiger-like growls were probably the hottest thing he'd ever heard during sex. It wasn't until her deft fingers wrapped around his throbbing need that he groaned against her right peak, his tongue forgetting momentarily how to work the bud as his hips thrust in time with her pumping hand.

She and Vaughn shifted, moving higher as Michael straddled both Eric and Sydney's legs for purchase to thrust. Her hands around Weiss' cock moved as well, pointing him directly at her wet core, his eyes meeting hers with concern shining in their depths. She reassured him with a brief smile as she cupped Vaughn's cheek where he'd pressed his face into her neck. Eric spotted the brief moment of tenderness as Michael kissed her palm, pushing in completely and holding still while waiting for Eric's entry.

Since she wasn't exactly able to lower herself over him, he lifted his hips as her soft fingers guided him into her body, inch by inch. He forced himself to go slow, though his mind really just ached to shove his straining erection into the warm velvet heat, he took his time – inch by agonizing inch.

Weiss' eyes never left hers, searching for any discomfort in her almost black depths, though he had to study her face as the sensations overwhelmed her and her eyes closed. They stopped only when the base of his cock was pushing against her nether-lips, and Weiss fought the urge to pull away when he briefly felt Vaughn against his taut balls.

'It's not considered gay when I'm inside of a hot woman…is it?' his mind thought, stopping only when Sydney's voice broke through the fog.

"You guys gonna move or something?" she hissed, Vaughn pressing a kiss against her jaw as Eric laughed from below her. "I'm not made of glass."

'Damn right you're not. Glass wouldn't be this hot unless it's being blown. Well…back to the gutter we go!' Eric cracked a smile at his mental innuendo, Vaughn pulling back and pushing slowly back in, a very tentative thrust.

The deep sweet moan Sydney emitted let them both know that all pretenses of discomfort had quickly been thrown out the window in favor of all-encompassing pleasure. Waiting until Michael was back in completely, Eric coordinated the next thrust to be simultaneous. Both straining erections pulled almost completely out before entering once more, Sydney feeling overly full as they built up a rhythm.

'This isn't gonna take too long,' she thought, feeling another orgasm rising up from the boiling pit of her stomach. 'I wonder how many times I can get off before they do,' she pondered as Eric's next push hit her g-spot.

Vaughn was constantly throwing her off, switching his pattern with a pause, letting Weiss thrust for a few seconds before starting up again.

"I know how close you are," he whispered harshly into her ear, a smile spreading her lips as he snaked an arm around to pinch and pull at her oversensitive nipple. She thrust against Weiss, groaning as the tip of his cock repeatedly bounced off the entrance of her cervix. His head had flopped back against the cushion of the couch in ecstasy as his hands moved from her hips to her the sides of her ribcage, giving Vaughn room to hold her against his chest.

She tightened with a groan around both pumping shafts, Vaughn's hand moving down to flick her clit twice as she came hard. A restrained scream squeezed from her throat as she tossed her head back to Michael's shoulder, arms limp at her sides as the boys grunted at the sudden constriction of their full cocks, thinking that maybe the wouldn't last as long as they thought.

Picking up the pace, they thrust at different intervals, occasionally pressing in at the same time. Weiss' hands moved down to her unoccupied hips as Vaughn's wrapped around her completely, his hands hooking together over her stomach. Picking her head up off of his shoulder, she let her fingers trace his sinewy forearms before threading them into his own over her abdomen. She held onto Vaughn for the ride, both of them supporting her weight as Eric pushed and pulled her accordingly over his engorged shaft by her hips.

"I'm not…gonna last," Weiss' warning was grunted in a harsh whisper as he quickened his pace, Vaughn doing the same as he clung to Sydney's hands, his sac moving closer to his body in search of the impending release.

Eric pushed his thumb over her clit, grinding repeatedly over the nubbin in an attempt to make her lose control just one more time over their thrusting cocks. Her warm channel began to constrict in pulses, a low humming leaving her throat as Vaughn stifled a groan by burying his face against her throat, his breath cooling the sweat along her throat.  
With a gasp and a cry she came, Weiss unable to contain his cum any longer as his hoarse shout mingled with hers, his cock spasming as he continued to thrust until he was utterly spent.

Eric removed himself from her still squeezing pussy as Vaughn pulled from her ass, ripping off the condom before redirecting himself and surging up into her c-nt.

"One more time, baby…just once," he grunted as he rode her hard and fast, their hands still semi-joined over her stomach. Weiss could only watch as his hand remained at her entrance, his finger lazily flicking the over sensitized button.

Sydney tilted back against Michael, the last climax never really dissipating, merely keeping her on the edge of something larger. She was slightly surprised with Vaughn's animalistic plundering of her already used femininity, but she wasn't exactly complaining. With each thrust of his cock, and possibly due to their new angle, the bulbous head kept a constant pressure over her g-spot. She let her head fall to his shoulder, his lips automatically sucking at the flushed skin along the juncture of neck and shoulder.

They exploded together, Sydney's fingernails digging into his wrists as he continued to move inside her while emptying his balls.

"What the **hell **is going on here?" Jack Bristow's booming voice filled the fuselage. Eric whipped his head to look where the senior officer was standing with his arms folded over his chest, his eyes taking in the scene with barely contained anger.

With that, Weiss bolted upright - a thin film of sweat covering his body underneath his clothes.

'Wait…clothes?' his mind registered slowly.

The phone call…

The mission to Bangladesh…

Sydney and Vaughn curling up together to sleep out the long flight leaving him on his own side of the plane…

Turning his head, he spotted his two friends comfortably nestled together on the small couch. They'd compensated by having Vaughn lie on his back with her draped over him, her head resting over his heart as one of his hands rested at the small of her back while the other played gently with her long hair.

"Jesus…" he muttered, slapping his hands over his face, Michael turning to look over at his friend with a questioning gaze.

"You okay?"

"Umm…yeah, just had a…bizarre dream. Did I say anything?"

"No, but you did move around a bit. I tried to wake you up but you didn't respond when the peanut bounced off of your forehead." Vaughn grinned, Sydney shifting against him as he tilted down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Bad dream?"

"Nah…but not entirely good either. I'm gonna go splash some cold water on my face." 'And my cock,' he added silently, making a beeline for the bathroom.

Staring long and hard at his flushed reflection, he couldn't help but groan as his rock hard cock brushed up against the scratchy fabric of his boxers. With a quick zip and a few routine tugs he relieved himself, a well-placed handful of paper towels catching the jism as he held in a moan.

'I'm pretty sure that just rated as the hottest dream I've ever had. And that totally beats out anything with that hot little Jessica Simpson.' He chuckled in agreement with himself before washing his hands and making sure he was somewhat presentable, though there were a few questions floating through his mind.

"Hey man, you have any lotion? My hands are all itchy," he asked, Vaughn pointing up to his carryon.

"I think so, if not, I'm sure Syd does. She's a girl," Vaughn explained.

"I can hear you," she mumbled from her spot on his chest, tucking her hand underneath her cheek with a small smile though she kept her eyes closed.

They laughed quietly, Eric grabbing Vaughn's bag and rifling through, his eyes spotting a pink bottle. 'No way…'

He pulled out said item, Vaughn vainly reaching to grab it from his hands as Sydney groaned, opening her eyes and fixing them both with a glare.

"Dude…strawberry lotion?"

"That's Sydney's," Michael defended, looking to his girlfriend for help.

"Dream on. You like it because it smells good," she groused, her head landing back over his chest as he rolled his eyes.

"Hey…at least it's not cherry lube," Eric stated, tossing the lotion back into the bag and falling down into the couch, turning his back toward his friends in an attempt to get some sleep. Shaking off the remnants of his dream, he sighed before slipping into slumber.

* * * * *

A/N: Okay, it was _sort of_ a threesome. I just wanted to explore my naughty side.

-Jeanie


	8. Chapter 8: Ice, Ice, Baby

A/N: So, I know it's been a while, but sitting at work today I had a thought. There's one form of S/V sex that I haven't really read yet. Which isn't saying much, because I'm sure I haven't read everything, but bear with me. What is this form of sex you ask?

_**H O C K E Y S E X**_

**Chapter 8: Ice, Ice, Baby**

"You're kidding, right?" Sydney balked, her wide brown eyes jumping to Vaughn's ecstatic, unshaven face.

"Nope," he grinned, sliding his hands into his pockets as his eyes flashed down to his shoes in a brief moment of embarrassment at her sudden attention.

"You did all of this for me?"

"It's your birthday, baby, I wanted it to be special."

"So you rented the entire ice-skating rink just for us?"

"Yep."

"Just us two?"

"Yep," he pulled out the keys with a wink. "I know a guy, pulled a favor, and he agreed. It's just you and me."

A giddy feeling began like butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of having the entire day off to spend with Vaughn at the rink. An entire day of goofing off like kids on the ice sounded like a pleasant reprieve from the harsh reality of their lives. Leaning up on her toes, one hand tickling the hair at the back of his neck to pull him toward her, she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips as Michael grabbed their hockey stuff off of the counter, seeing the bill resting underneath the gym bag.

Snagging it before she could see the ridiculous amount of money he's spent in order to reserve the arena for their own personal use, he shoved it into his back pocket as they walked toward the family locker rooms to store their gear and put their skates on.

An hour later, her cheeks rosy and nose runny due to the cold temperature, she conned Vaughn into a one on one hockey game.

"I know you'll kick my ass, but humor me. I've been getting better!"

His response was just to laugh and skate away from her toddling stance on the slick surface. "Whatever you say, hun," he grinned, elegantly making his way to the bench and grabbing his stick, as well as a somewhat smaller stick wrapped in bright pink and purple wrapping paper. "Time for present number one."

She laughed when he presented it to her, the dimples caving her cheeks in a way that made his heart speed up. "I wonder what it is?"

The small, lighter – and in general – more feminine hockey stick was the perfect size for her as she tested its weight in her gloved hands. Her eyes caught the large bold letters from the top to the bottom reading SYDNEY. "Are you sure this isn't a gift for you that just has my name written on it?"

"Hah. Hardly. I just figured that with all the time we've spent here over the last year or so, you know – you might want your own."

"Thank you, baby, it's a great gift." She leaned up to kiss him once more, momentarily forgetting that she was in skates rather than shoes. Her feet slid back, Michael's arms wrapping around her torso before she had a chance to smash into the ice. "My hero,"

"You're lucky I was here ma'am. That would have been a nasty fall." Sliding into a deep voice and cocking his eyebrow in an imitation of a superhero, she pushed him away with a giggle.

After a brief kiss, the game started. To Vaughn's surprise, she was holding her own on the ice. He wasn't keeping score, of course, but she was doing remarkably better than in their previous solo hockey matches. After a half hour or so, she begged for a break.

"I don't do this all the time! Look, you practice, and I'll be back for round two. I'm gonna go get a drink." He agreed, watching her skate on wobbly legs to the opening and climbing out before disappearing into the locker rooms entrance.

What started out as just a few shots into the net became an all out hockey practice for him. His mind focused completely solely on the puck and his footwork, gliding from one end of the rink and firing at the net – missing rarely. After fifteen minutes and one missed shot later, he stopped. His breathing was ragged and sweat had coated his entire body, most only showing on his face, neck and now damp hair. Pulling his hand out of a large glove, he ran it through his hair, frowning as the chilled sweat covered his fingers.

The sudden thought of Sydney popped into his head, and he looked up from the ice for the first time in fifteen minutes. She wasn't anywhere on the chilled surface, but he finally spotted her sitting on the edge with a warm smile on her face. A blush tinted his cheeks as he skated over to where her dangling legs were swaying back and forth, opening to accommodate his warm body before closing around the small of his back.

"I love watching you," she murmured, eyes taking in his sweaty, breathless appearance with a grin, noticing for the first time that he looked almost the exact way after sex – only with less attire.

"Sorry I forgot about you, but you know. Once it starts, it's hard to stop."

"Well, I don't mind at all. It totally turns me on watching you do something you love."

"Does that mean we should put up a mirror in the bedroom?"

Her only answer was a patented eye-roll and the lowering of her mouth to his. What started as a brief, almost chaste, kiss, escalated into something more urgent. Sydney's mouth opened up to his insistent tongue, the flavor uniquely Vaughn as well as the spearmint gum he'd been chewing causing small sparks of electricity to shoot from her sensitive lips to her brain, and finally out to other areas.

Pulling his gloves off behind her back, his hands wormed their way underneath her layers to find the warm skin waiting for him. She gasped slightly at the mixing of her heated skin and his cool fingertips, their lips popping apart. Sucking in a lungful of air, Vaughn was the first to open his eyes. The lovely flush to her cheeks – he thought – was something other than the chilled air of the arena, though his second thought send blood directly to his groin.

'Could we get away with having sex at the ice rink?'

"We could get away with it you know…there's no one here," Sydney's answer made his attention snap back to the willing young woman in his arms.

"How'd you know that's what I was thinking?" His words were muffled by her skin as he dove in to trace the column of her throat, his tongue lashing at the sensitive spot below her earlobe.

She moaned, her gloved hands digging into his shoulders through his thick sweatshirt as his own hands moved up, unclasping her bra without her really noticing. "because I know how you think, most of the time."

"Is it because I'm a guy?"

"Because you're too much like me."

He nodded, pulling her back onto the ice as she hesitated. "You're kidding right? I'm not gonna do it with you on the ice. I was hoping for somewhere a little…less cold?"

He just laughed, tugging her closer to the edge, pushing his hips up against hers. "Scared?"

"Of you or getting frostbite on my ass?"

"Both,"

"Well, I know how to handle you, but the moment they have to amputate my cheeks because of gangrene I'll ban you from sex for the rest of your life." Her voice was a sexy whisper against the column of his throat, the shudder wracking his body having nothing to do with the chill of the rink.

He compromised. "Well…who said anyone had to be on the bottom?" he asked before sucking a mark to her neck.

She pulled her head back, her eyes questioning as he pulled her smaller gloves from the inside of his jacket, slipping them over her frozen fingers before lifting her off of the wall and skating awkwardly toward the benches where the players usually sat.

"Vaughn…what are you doing?"

"Hush."

His order was playful yet serious, and she somewhat obeyed, though it was never something she'd been used to doing willingly. Still, she had no way to object after he'd fastened his mouth over hers, his tongue commandeering her mouth before she could react.

Nimble fingers unbuttoned buttons, unzipped zippers, but leaving most of the clothes on to keep out the cold, despite the fact that neither party was chilled. With pants and underwear pushed down around their hips, the gloves were abandoned as fingers and hands went to work to finish stimulating their already sensitive bodies.

Sydney groaned against the corner of Michael's mouth as he inserted a finger to the knuckle inside her wet warmth, her hand gripping his cock with a tight squeeze, Vaughn echoing hers before he pushed her away momentarily. Turning her away from him before pushing her to her knees on the players bench and walking up behind her.

"You're loving this aren't you?" she asked with a pant as he crawled up behind her, lowering his chest to her back as his arms wrapped around her torso to prop himself up with the heels of his hands resting against the cold steel of the bench.

"Loving what? Having you bent over the benches I sit on each Sunday during my games?"

"Maybe…"

"Don't know what you're talkin' about," he muttered before pushing his engorged shaft completely into her body, her shocked expression and reaction making him laugh before pushing aside the hair at the nape of her neck to press a kiss against her soft skin.

They built up a rhythm of pushing, pulling, and thrusting, Michael moving away from his plastered position against her back to set his hands at her hips to aide in pulling her back to meet his thrusting cock.

She climaxed quickly, the unusual position forcing the blunt head to collide with her g-spot. The tremors and contractions around Vaughn's pumping hardness was too much as he exploded with a hoarse shout, his seed spurting in pulses before he collapsed in a clothed yet sweaty heap against her back.

Unfortunately, her arms gave way from their shaky position on the bench. His forced weight made Sydney's fall to her chest and stomach, her chin hitting with a pang against the metal.

"Oh…baby," he muttered, pushing off of her quickly as she chuckled from below him slightly out of breath. He helped her up, a blop of blood landing below them. "Geeze, you're bleeding."

She couldn't help but laugh as he grabbed her glove from the floor and setting it gently against her chin before zipping his pants back up and zooming across the ice to grab his gym bag.

"Okay, I've got a first aide kit in here," he explained as she stood up and put her clothes back together as he took out the kit and the parts he'd need to bandage up her wound. "Doesn't look like this is gonna stop hun, you might need stitches."

"Really? That's exciting!" she exclaimed, Vaughn rolling his eyes. "What? I mean, c'mon! It's our first sex related injury! And on my birthday no less."

"Not including the time that I left the hickie on your neck the day after we started dating resulting in your father slamming me up against the wall and giving me a concussion?"

"Didn't count. Wasn't during sex,"

"Either was this!" Vaughn countered, wadding up a piece of gauze and pressing it to her bloody chin. "C'mon, we'll have to get to the doctor."

Fifteen minutes later, Sydney walked from the room to see her boyfriend crouched on the floor with a toddler building a tower out of blocks in the small, family waiting room. She thanked the doctor as Michael excused himself from the giggly toddler and moved to her side.

"How bad?"

"Four stitches. Quite possibly the most pleasurable wound I've ever gotten." Sydney leaned up on her tiptoes to press a kiss against his mouth as they walked back to the car.

"Weiss is gonna laugh his ass of at this one."

"Oh no he is not Michael Vaughn, because you are not going to tell him a thing. You and I made a deal."

"I had my fingers crossed."

"You want to have kids some day?"

"You offering?" he countered with a restrained chuckle, Sydney tossing him a glare as her retort was cut off by the ring of her cell phone. "Bristow,"

"Hey chinless!" Eric's cheery voice burst through the phone as she reached over and punched Michael's shoulder, hanging up on the laughing cohort.

"Oh you're gonna get it, Vaughn. Gonna get it gooooood," she warned, her mind thinking up several delicious scenarios for her smug faced significant other.

***

-Jeanie


	9. Chapter 9: Giving Blood

A/N: Angie suggested that we get it on in the Blood Mobile, and I thought to myself, "Damn what a good idea." So...here we go!

**Chapter 9: Giving Blood**

Sydney could almost feel the angry aura emanating from the Blood Mobile. Shouldering her backpack and smiling at a young man walking by, she opened the door. Without looking further into the makeshift CIA wagon, she securely latched the door behind her before chancing a glance at her secret partner.

He was sitting in his crisp, white oxford - holster hugging his broad chest and shoulders. Between the deep green eyes and the classy yet spiked hair were the wrinkles of his forehead, more pronounced due to the deep scowl he was firing in her direction.

"Look...before you say anything-"

"Don't. Don't speak...just sit."

"Excuse me? I'm not a child. Don't you dare talk to me like that."

Vaughn stood quickly, joining the fray. "I am your superior officer! You are going to do as I say during a mission!"

"You weren't there! You're never there! If you'd been in my situation, you would have understood. This is all I have, Vaughn - all I have to get me the hell out of this life!"

"Damn it Sydney, open your eyes!" Vaughn snarled before taking the three steps separating them and slamming his mouth over hers.

Taking advantage of her sudden gasp his tongue pounced into her mouth to stroke her tongue before he pulled back finding her arms wrapped around his torso and lips swollen from his plundering.

"I worry about you constantly, but if you pull something like that again, I can't promise I'll be your handler when you get back."

He saw the pained flicker in her eyes mix with anger, and before she had a chance to speak his lips were once again smothering hers in a fiery kiss. He hauled her flush against his body, the wind leaving her lungs in a rush as he backed her up against a supply cabinet.

'Jack's gonna kill me,' Vaughn thought as he heard Sydney moan against his rough lips, his five o'clock shadow beginning to chafe her chin and cheeks.

Pulling their mouth's apart with a smack, Sydney forced herself to be rational and remember what the subject was before his initial attack. 'Oh…that's right. I'm pissed.'

"I'm not a child, so don't treat me like one."

Her handler merely nodded as his hands worked at freeing her shirt from their wedged spot inside her jeans, undoing the button there as well. Her own fingers were toying with his holster, tracing the leather with a fingernail. Despite his initial desire to rip her a new one...this wasn't entire what he'd been planning.

Sydney began to undo the buttons of his oxford, stopping quickly at Michael's harsh reprimand.

"Don't. There's not enough time for that anyway." His rough words were almost an order she would have complained over if his hot, insistent mouth wasn't over hers yet again. She heard more than felt the thud of her lower back as it was pushed into the top of a filing cabinet, and as instinct took over, she used her runner's legs to push herself up before wrapping said legs around Vaughn's waist.

The sudden rise of her thighs was making it difficult for his struggling hands to rid her hips of the confining denim. Pulling their mouths apart and attaching his suckling lips to her collar bone, he tilted her back until the reverberating thump of her head coming into contact with the mobile's wall was heard. He cast her a wicked smile, teeth nipping at her sensitive skin, forcing her to close her eyes and clutch his shoulders with a moan.

Finally managing to get her pants around her ankles, he was slightly shocked to see bright red lace winking at him in a sexy number tight around her hips.

"Just because I'm an English major doesn't mean I don't shop at Victoria's Secret," she whisper, lust gracing the edges of her voice as she pulled him closer. "Don't think that doing this will make me forgive you,"

"Don't think that doing this will make me worry less about you." 'Quite the contrary.' he finished in his mind.

"So we'll have hot angry sex and work s*** out later." Michael growled, Sydney readily agreeing as she kicked off her trousers, her fingers brushing against his straining member as it jutted out the front of his black dress pants. The deep moan that erupted from his throat made her grin as he shoved her hands away and undid his belt, button, and zipper with one fumbling set of fingers, the other pushing aside her silken panties and shoved two fingers into her twitching heat.

She cried out, her fingers clawing up toward his holster and yanking him closer to her chest. Deeming her more than ready, he adjusted himself so his throbbing cock was aligned with her heated center and not wasting any time before thrusting in to the hilt.

Vaughn grunted, shanking himself out of his trance to see five sets of eyes focused solely on him, only one of which belonged to the woman he was f****** in his mind.

"Do you have something to add to the briefing Agent Vaughn?" Jack Bristow asked from the front of the room, Michael sitting up straight and trying to make it seem like he hadn't been fantasizing about the intimidating man's daughter.

"Umm...no sir, I'm sorry. I...didn't get much sleep last night," he stuttered, clearing his throat and sitting back up in his chair, trying desperately to remember the last note he'd written down as he looked down to he and Sydney's joint notepad.

Miraculously, his semi-obedient girlfriend had taken into account his zoned behavior and written down most of the pertinent information for him. Sending her a small smile, he wasn't prepared for the smirk she was sporting. Reaching her hand out and penning two words onto the corner of the pad, he frowned and looked down.

'Wet spot?'

Peering down into his lap he saw his erection making itself known as a tent in his trousers, a small moist spot on the front. He cursed mentally, adjusting his jacket around his waist with a grumble.

Removing the cap from his pen, he added a small note underneath her jibe, Sydney tilting only her eyes to read it.

'Zone 4.'

A bright dimpled smile formed on her lips as they tried in vain to pay attention to the rest of the meeting. Finally, moments after they adjourned, Sydney stood at her desk glancing over several files she'd received as a strong hand wrapped around her arm and yanked her away from her work.

She recognized him quickly, frowning in wonder until he began dragging her down a familiar hallway - into a familiar room. Slamming the door behind them and pulling her against him, his mouth latched onto the sensitive spot at the joint of her neck and shoulder.

"My god...what's gotten you all riled up baby?" she moaned, her voice a harsh whisper mixed with a gasp as Vaughn bit into her throat.

"Blood mobile."

'What?!' she thought, Michael's hand grasping and squeezing her breast making her incapable of speaking coherently. "I'll ask later," she groaned, feeling Michael's nod against her chest before his teeth and mouth latched over her sensitive nipple.

Putting any and all words aside, they wasted no time in unzipping Vaughn's pants, his hands busying themselves with hiking up her skirt and shoving aside her panties. Her warm hand wrapped around his stiff cock, Michael lunging without meaning to with his hips.

"Sweetie, I'm hard. You don't need to check," he chuckled, pretty sure she'd rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see anything in the darkness of the closet.

A breathy laugh brushed across his sweaty neck as she tilted his shaft down until it was perfectly in line with her wet center. Torturing him slightly as she skipped over her entrance and brushed the mushroom-like head against her clit.

"Syd," warning her with his tone, she brushed him past one last time before he took control of the situation. Wrapping his fingers around hers he coordinated it with a thrust until he was buried to the hilt inside her tight channel. Dropping her head to his shoulder, forehead colliding with the lapel of his suit jacket, Michael pulled out and lunged back in rapid succession.

'This isn't gonna be too long,' she thought, encircling his shoulders with her arms and his hips with her legs as he began to piston in and out. Pressing kisses to his ear and neck, Vaughn buried his hands into her loosened hair and pulled her back and crashed his mouth over hers. His tongue invaded like an army and quickly took command of her senses.

His loins began to boil, Sydney's walls clenching around his pumping shaft as they careened toward the impending explosion. A few well timed - and well placed - thrusts against her g-spot set the wanton woman off as she dug her fingernails into his shoulders and neck before crying out against the cotton of his clothes. The rhythmic squeezing of her channel was too much for him as Vaughn let out a guttural noise from the back of his throat as his orgasm rushed from his toes to the top of his head.

They slumped into a sweating, pulsating heap atop one of the many abandoned filing cabinets that lined the east wall. Sydney's fingers ran mundane patterns through his hair as he tried to calm himself down above her.

"So...exactly what were...were you thinking about in...in the briefing?" she gulped air into her lungs, words coming out between gasps.

"I was just thinking about having angry sex in the blood mobile after a bum mission."

"But...why the blood mobile? It was singlehandedly the one place where we fought the most."

Vaughn laughed, pulling his body back until he remembered the Sydney was wrapped around him and keeping him from escaping the ring of her arms and legs. "I've fantasized too many times about the warehouse, I figured it'd be a good change of pace. But...we should get back before your dad realizes that I just had sex with his daughter."

"I think he knows that we're together."

"Ummm...seriously? No...I don't think so. I probably wouldn't be alive if he knew." Pushing a kiss to her cheek after missing her nose from the lack of light, they separated and began redressing.

"We'll see about that," she chuckled and pulled him close for a final kiss, her tongue taking a moment to trace his lips before she opened the door and ran head long into her father. "s*** - I mean...dad. What...what are...how..."

"I'll pretend that I'm not witnessing my daughter and her former handler exiting a closet in rumpled attire. Meeting in ten minutes."

"Another meeting?" she asked, trying to keep the blush from rising completely on its journey from neck to forehead.

"Unless you're busy, of course." Without further ado, he turned away from the ruffled young couple and walked calmly and fluidly down the hallway.

"Huh. Well...what do you know." Sydney mumbled, Michael poking his head out of the room with an unusually ashen face.

"What?" he squeaked, straightening his tie until it was almost unbearably tight.

"You _are _still alive...and I'm pretty sure my dad **knows **now." She faced him with a small smile, rubbing her thumb over his forehead to try and squish away the dozen or so wrinkles that had recently made themselves known. Kissing the dimple of his chin before walking away and leaving the young man gaping in the hallway.

Sighing and mentally preparing himself for some sort of battle between his potential father and law and himself, he closed the door to the closet behind him.

'I knew we'd get caught some day.'

***

A/N: So it's been a long time...and I'm sorry for that. Oh...and also for not having it beta'd. I was gonna (sorry Sara) but I just decided that a read through and a post was good enough. Besides...I promised Cookie. There's probably some problems...spelling...stuff in there somewhere. Read around it.

Anywho! Review! Let me know you're still alive!!!

Thanks all!

-Jeanie


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